


May I Feel

by ellesmer_joe3



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Ewan McGregor is a babe, F/M, Friendship, Jedi Code, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Parent(s), Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Moulin Rouge References, Seduction to the Dark Side, Space monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-01 19:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 37,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10928868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellesmer_joe3/pseuds/ellesmer_joe3
Summary: A series of nonconsecutive vignettes that tells of the beautiful catastrophe that is Obi-wan and Tali's relationship, ranging from their happy moments to the darker instances of their time together as master and padawan. (Vaguely AU.)





	1. Bonded

**Bonded**

            Obi-wan cursed under his breath. This wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go. And in hindsight, it was supposed to be a relatively easy mission, especially considering how strong his padawan had become. But instead of being on their way back to the Temple _with_ the plans for the potentially dangerous, so-called “BS Ares,” they were in a conference room surrounded by droids. Their light sabers were out of their cloaks but not yet lit; neither Obi-wan nor Tali, his apprentice, wanted to risk it. In order to be able to fight, they needed a bigger space. And he knew that Tali knew.

            One droid approached them and harshly prodded Tali’s shoulder with his blaster. “Drop your weapons, Jedi scum,” it said.

            Obi-wan did so immediately, and glanced over at Tali when she didn’t do the same. “Do as it says, padawan.”

            She followed his order but seemed to be very distracted. She had a faraway expression on her face, with her lips slightly parted and her eyes flitting from side to side. Obi-wan knew that look. It appeared time and time again whenever she was planning something. And if Obi-wan had learned something in his ten years teaching her, it was that she had a brilliant mind – a mind that had gotten them out of tight spots many times before. He was certain that this time wouldn’t be any different.

            The droid that had prodded her leaned down to pick up their light sabers. As it straightened up, it said to the others, “Take them to the general.”

            While the droids moved to stand behind the Jedi, Obi-wan heard Tali’s voice in his head: “ _Master_.”

            He looked over to her and found her scratching her nose, right before she slid a single finger across her eyebrow and tilted her head to the direction of the droid that had their light sabers. There was a questioning look on her face, and he raised a surprised eyebrow.

            _“Now?”_ he said, to which she replied with a brisk nod. He sighed. _“Alright, am I A-1 or A-2?”_

            She grinned. _“A-2.”_

_“Be careful, padawan.”_

            Obi-wan acted quickly. He grunted, as if in pain, and fell onto one knee, clutching his other leg like he had pulled something. A look of agony was plastered onto his face. He had closed his eyes tightly to make it more believable, but he took a quick peek to see that Tali had knelt beside him, looking quite stricken. She had always been a very good actor.

            For a fraction of a second, her eyes flickered to something behind him. He nodded once in understanding.

            “He’s in pain,” she was saying, pleading with the droids. Suffice it to say, they hadn’t been expecting something like this to happen. “Please, you have to help him!”

            Obi-wan groaned loudly to further prove her point. He saw her lip twitch upwards in a small smile. Behind her, the droid that had their light sabers approached and said, “What’s going on here?”

            The change in Tali’s face was instantaneous. Hastily, Obi-wan pushed himself back with a little help from the Force, so that he was beneath the conference table. Before anyone could make a move against him, Tali had Force-pulled both her and his light sabers away from the lead droid and into her waiting hands.

            In the blink of an eye, she had activated them and was ferociously battling the small legion of droids that stood in the way of their escape.

            Blasters shot at her from every direction, but she was strong in the Force, stronger than anyone Obi-wan had ever encountered — perhaps she would even become stronger than Yoda, with more training. She twirled the light sabers in her hands with ease, deflecting blaster fire from everywhere at once; even behind her, at which point she would only stretch her arm back and make sure that the light saber didn’t cut through her spine.

            _“Do save some for me,”_ Obi-wan told her. Again, a grin lit up her face.

            In a hasty yet effective maneuver, she dropped and rolled to lie on her stomach before Obi-wan, both of them safely beneath the table. With both light sabers already deactivated, she handed Obi-wan’s blue one to him.

            “Together?” she said.

            He returned her smile. “Together.”

            As one, they exited the confines of the table and dispatched with the droids in a relatively casual fashion. When all the troops were lying on the floor, and Obi-wan and Tali were hurriedly making their way back to their ship, Obi-wan asked, a bit exasperatedly, “When will I get to be A-1?”

            “Next time, master. I promise.”

            Then he looked at her and must have realized just how much she had grown, from a wide-eyed girl to a now maturing young woman. She was going to be knighted soon, and they were going to be seeing much less of each other.

            “You did well, Tali,” he said as he was starting up the ship.

            She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you want to be A-1 that badly, master?”

            He couldn’t help but to chuckle. “You can’t blame me for trying. I can’t know when we’re going to get our next mission.”

            After a moment’s thought, she shrugged. “We could always try it with the training droids at the Temple.”

            “It’s not the same.” With a soft grunt of dismissal, he flew them away from the enemy planet and started them on their way to Coruscant. “I always thought that you didn’t want me to be A-1 because you didn’t like the idea of me using your saber. You’re quite attached to that toothpick.”

             “Master Obi-wan, I would have you know that _this_ is an elegant weapon, made for a very civilized age.”

            He laughed. “I like that. And right you are, padawan. An elegant weapon indeed…

… But I’ll still be A-1 next time.”


	2. Solace

**Solace**

            Sighing, Obi-wan looked at the clock again. _3:17,_ it read. Tali was supposed to meet him there in the training room at 3:00. What could have possibly happened to her for her to be seventeen minutes late? She was never late. Normally she was a very disciplined girl; if she was ever late, it was never for more than five minutes, and she always had a good reason. But now Obi-wan was reaching the end of his patience.

            Three minutes passed and he finally got to his feet, intent on finding out what had happened to her. He was on his way to the gardens, for perhaps she had lost her sense of time there, but as he was walking in the great hall, he caught sight of Dash, a mechanic friend of Tali’s.

            She was talking to someone. When Obi-wan approached, she closed her mouth immediately. The boy she’d been talking to (another mechanic, from the looks of it) turned and regarded Obi-wan with guarded eyes, but he didn’t seem hostile.

            “Master Obi-wan,” Dash greeted, bowing slightly. “To what do I owe the honor of your company?”

            “Have you happened to see Tali anywhere?” said Obi-wan.

            The two looked shocked that he would ask such a thing. “She’s in her room, master,” Dash replied. “Haven’t you heard the news?”

            He frowned.

            “Her mother was killed today in an assassination, along with some other council members.” Dash looked at her, confused. “You didn’t know?”

            “I truly didn’t.”

            Obi-wan blinked in rapid succession, trying to make sense of the situation. Earlier that day, he had sensed a disturbance in the Force—a very strong ripple. It would have worried him, but Yoda hadn’t said anything about it, so he just assumed that perhaps it was a good kind of event.

            He looked around. Now that he thought about it, there weren’t much people in the temple. On a normal day it would be bustling with activity. Yoda had probably ordered everyone to temporary house arrest, at least until the chaos died down.

            “You said she was in her room?” he asked.

            Dash nodded. “She’s been there ever since she heard the news.”

            “Thank you, Dash.”

            Now considerably anxious for his padawan, Obi-wan walked at a brisk pace towards the Jedi quarters. He had to reach her and steady her mind, which was almost surely a complete mess. He couldn’t have her pondering on things that would lead her down a different path, a darker path than what Yoda wanted for her.

            Obi-wan would know. The same thing had happened to him when Qui-gon died, and without a master to guide him, it’d been very difficult to catch himself from a free fall into the Dark Side.

            It was eerily silent in the hall of the Jedi quarters. Upon placing his ear against Tali’s door, he was able to hear a faint sound from within — too faint for him to place just what it was.

            Obi-wan knocked softly. “Tali?”

            There was no reply, which some part of him had already expected beforehand.

            “Tali, I’m coming in,” he said. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he turned the knob and pushed open the door.

            The bed was messy and someone had obviously been lying on it very recently, but apart from that, everything in the room was untouched. Standing by the far corner and gazing out of the window was Tali. She had her arms crossed, but she didn’t seem to be crying. Not currently, at least.

            With the assumption that she was meditating, Obi-wan decided against interrupting her, given the fragile state she was in. He made to exit the room when her voice brought him back.

            “I remember how devastated she was when father died,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper, “But also how proud she was when she found out that I was going to start training as a Jedi. And when I told her that the great Sith killer, Obi-wan Kenobi, was going to be my mentor, she was beyond ecstatic.” Tali then turned around and looked squarely at Obi-wan. “Where is she now?”

            Obi-wan’s gaze softened instantly. “She is with the Force now, Tali.”

            “That’s not good enough,” she snapped, surprising him with her sudden aggression. “She’s supposed to be _here_ , with _me._ ”

            He reached out to her with the Force and found such anger, such hatred, surrounding her. Without even trying, he knew what she was thinking.

            “I’m going to find whoever killed her,” she said. “And I’m going to kill him myself.”

            “Tali—”

            “He’ll pay for what he’s done. I’ll use my light saber and I’ll make him scream, and _I’ll make him bleed_ —”

            Obi-wan finally raised his voice. He’d heard enough. “Tali, stop that kind of thinking right now!”

            In the stillness of the chamber, his voice was like thunder. His padawan’s trembling stopped and she unclenched her fists.

            “Yes, master,” she whispered.

            Frowning, Obi-wan reached out once more with the Force and found that the anger had died down — still there, like embers of a fire, but dying down. The feeling that enveloped her was now utter sorrow, and perhaps even some fear.

            In an effort to make her see that he was not angry with her, he said in a much gentler voice, “Seeking revenge is not the Jedi way, padawan. The authorities will find him, I’m sure of it, and he will be brought to justice.”

            She only nodded. For a while, Obi-wan kept his distance and allowed her to release her dark feelings into the Force. But then, when he thought that it was all over and done with, he heard a sniffle coming from her. He looked up and found that she was crying.

            It was better than spewing out words of vengeance, he supposed.

            Obi-wan came forward but kept his hands to himself, not quite sure whether it was a good idea to hug her. She was the one who closed the distance between them and placed her forehead on his shoulder. She didn’t hug him; some part of him was glad, and another was disappointed. But he kept his peace and stroked her hair, a wordless form of comfort.

            He felt a movement in the Force. A sad smile crept up his lips. As a silent whisper to the Force, he said, _“You left too soon, Atel. Your daughter needs you.”_

            There was the sound of a woman’s soft snort, and a witty reply. _“Watch over my daughter, draigonslayer. She finds solace in you more than you can possibly know.”_

            Obi-wan smiled.


	3. I Told You So

**I Told You So**

            As Obi-wan and Tali were running through the godforsaken jungles of Ragoon 6, Obi-wan cursed their retched luck. Not only had they been unable to find shelter for the night, but a very large, very angry mother Galmite was also chasing them away from their ship. The only thing that was keeping her at bay was the thick undergrowth; the creature was large enough to get caught in the roots of the trees every so often.

            The Jedi knew they couldn’t outrun her forever. Tali had slept in her nest (unknowingly so) but she might as well have committed suicide. Not that Obi-wan could blame his pupil. The nest had been so finely camouflaged, even he hadn’t known what it was until he saw the bright yellow eyes of the Galmite staring at them from across the cave.

            He whipped his head from side to side, looking for an escape route. Ahead of them, just several hundred more meters out, was a cliff, and he could hear the roar of the waterfall from where they were running. Jumping wasn’t going to be an option. Galmites were half-amphibian; they could breathe underwater, and they knew how to swim. If the Jedi could barely outrun her on land, the odds would be stacked against them in the water.

            They could try fighting her, but hostile as she might be, the Jedi didn’t relish in the killing of animals. They were necessary to the balance of the Force as much as the Jedi were.

            That left only one thing.

            “Climb!” he shouted, immediately Force-jumping onto the lowest branch of the nearest tree. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Tali swinging her arms back, about to jump.

            Just as her feet left the ground, the Galmite opened her mouth and stretched her barbed tongue, wrapping it around Tali’s leg.

            Tali went down, screaming in pain. The Galmite began retracting her tongue, dragging Tali along the jungle floor. Obi-wan was about to jump down and deal with the creature when Tali finally pulled out her light saber.

            She curled in on herself and activated it. She cut off the Galmite’s tongue in one stroke.

            The Galmite hissed and reared back. Obi-wan knew that she wouldn’t stay back for long. “Climb, padawan!”

            Face contorted in pain, Tali Force-pushed herself onto the same branch that Obi-wan was on. He gathered her into his arms and moved them to a higher branch. It splintered a bit under their joined weight.

            “Master,” Tali gasped. “This won’t hold us both.”

            “It will. At least until it gives me any reason to—”

            With a very audible crack, the far end of the branch, the end that Obi-wan was on, splintered completely. Tali barely had time to reach out and grab her master’s hand. They were too high up for him to survive such a fall.

            “I told you so,” she grunted, trying for a smile but finding their situation too bad for jesting.

            She was in an awkward position. Her legs were curled underneath her and she could feel the lacerations bleeding under the pressure. Her arm was ramrod straight, thanks to Obi-wan’s weight. It was only her core strength that was keeping him from falling.

            Obi-wan craned his neck and saw the monster several feet below, still reeling from the injury that Tali had given her. He saw a glimmer of hope, there, a chance. And the Force was whispering for him to take it.

            “Let me go, padawan.”

            Her eyes widened. “What? No!”

            “Feel the Force. What is it telling you?”

            “She’ll eat you!”

            Obi-wan sent her a gentle smile. “Tali,” he said. “Trust me.”

            He could see the horror on her face as his hand started slipping from her bloodied grasp. He felt her tighten her fingers, but he was too far off. He fell.

            “No!” Tali didn’t want to watch. She couldn’t lose her master. In her determination to keep him alive, she tried to stand up so she could jump down and help him, but a wave of pain sent her back down to her side. The Force was whispering in her ear, soothing her.

            Obi-wan heard Tali’s cry of pain and anguish, and though he wasn’t a masochist, he couldn’t help but to feel gratified that he had gained such loyalty from a padawan.

            With a gentle nudge of the Force surrounding him, he changed his position in the air. He pulled out his light saber and activated it. And as the Galmite opened her maw, he closed it again by landing on her snout and thrusting his light saber deep into her skull.

            He felt her life force slowly slipping away, and he bowed his head.

            “Rest in peace, my friend.”

            Pulling his light saber out and reattaching it to his belt, he returned to where Tali lay sprawled on the branch. Her face was pale; Obi-wan feared that the barbs on the Galmite’s tongue were coated in poison.

            In an effort to lighten the mood, he winked and said, “I told you so.”

            She laughed weakly, and he saw the glee in her eyes, however faint.

            Once again, he gathered her into his arms and jumped back down to the ground. He was thankful that she wasn’t too heavy. “Don’t worry, padawan,” he muttered reassuringly. “We’ll soon be back at the temple.”

            She scoffed. “I doubt it.”

            The dry humor in her voice was barely discernable. Obi-wan frowned at the thought of her dying; his heart gave a little clench. Determined not to let such an event come to pass, he began the long, brisk walk back to their ship.


	4. Let It Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided not to update this story, or put up ANY other story, until I find out why the hell the indentations become so inconsistent when I paste the text. In my document, there's always an indentation before each paragraph, but once I see the draft of a chapter, some/MOST of the indents are just gone. (You'll see in this chapter.)
> 
> Would anyone please care to explain? I'm new to the site and I'd really appreciate it if you'd drop a comment offering advice or any kind of explanation, really. It would mean a lot.

**Let It Go**

            Anakin was misbehaving, and not in the childish way of causing mischief and spreading trouble. He was acting out of place, as a padawan and as a Jedi in general. Tali didn’t like the rumors she was hearing—speaking up inappropriately during council meetings; disrespecting both Obi-wan and Mace Windu; disrespecting _Yoda_? As his longtime friend, Tali was determined to stop whatever bad streak he had going on.

            He was the Chosen One, after all. The galaxy couldn’t risk waiting for him to fix himself; he could turn in the process. And seeing as Padme had taken a weeklong trip to Naboo, Tali was the only left to have a personal talk with him—except for master Windu, but the two seemed to be having a feud.

            She approached him one afternoon, after both of their noon lectures were finished. His aura had taken on a darker quality to it, more malicious, and it no longer held the soft, approachable standard that it had always had. He didn’t look happy to see her, but he didn’t look mad either. He just looked… tired.

            “What do you want?” he asked gruffly.

            Tali ignored his obvious attempt at scaring her off. “I just want to talk, Ani,” she said. “We haven’t had the chance to hang out in a while, with all the missions and the meetings. I’ve missed you.”

            His expression softened at that. “I’ve missed you too.”

            She offered a wide smile. “Walk with me?”

            As they strolled through the temple, they talked about the most trivial of things. Tali mostly let him lead the conversation, wanting his mood to lighten up before she moved on to the heavier topics.

            He told her about the precious creature he’d seen during a mission with Mace at Ragoon 6, but he didn’t know the name of it; it ended up biting his finger and giving him four stitches. He told her about the looks some other-planet girls would give him—his form of a jest, since Tali of all people knew that his heart belonged to Padme and only Padme.

            Unbeknownst to him, Tali was actually leading them to the training gardens at the back of the temple. At such a time of day, all master-padawan practices should be finished, making the garden the perfect, quiet place to have a private chat.

            They sat down on one of the stone benches. Anakin continued talking, and Tali patiently listened to his stories, taking in every detail and reacting whenever she found the urge to. The moments they shared were uplifting; Tali could see his shields coming down, piece by piece, as his presence in the Force took on a gentler hue.

            Finally, it seemed Anakin had run out of stories. They sat there in companionable silence. By that time, the sun had set and night was taking over. Tali was sure that both of their masters were looking for them, but what she was about to do was just as important as any meeting or lecture.

            “How about you, Tali?” Anakin asked. “How have you been?”

            “Oh, same old same old.” She shrugged. “Nothing special, really. Obi-wan and I got into this skirmish with a Nagusa a few weeks ago. Needed ten stitches.”

            He hissed. “Ouch.”

            Tali shot him a toothy grin but said nothing more. Now came the tricky part. “Anakin,” she started carefully. “I’ve been hearing these rumors… about you speaking out against the council.”

            Immediately, his face darkened. “Oh.”

            “Are they true?”

            “Yes, they’re true, but my arguments have always been reasonable.”

            Lauren forced a softer tone into her voice, knowing that she had to tread carefully. These were dangerous waters. “You seem upset.”

            “They don’t listen to me!” he suddenly snapped. “Every suggestion I give, they always dismiss. Like it’s _nothing_. They don’t even consider it! I’ve gained the trust of Chancellor Palpatine, but the Jedi refuse to give me theirs. It’s as if they see me as… as some kind of bomb or something. It’s like they’re just waiting for me to explode, and they don’t want to be there when I do.”

            A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Padme was the only one I could talk to about this stuff, but she’s in Naboo…”

            “Anakin, you can talk to me. I can keep a secret, even from the masters—”

            “Even from Obi-wan?”

            “Yes, even from him.” That was a lie, but Anakin didn’t seem to notice. Tali placed a hand on his shoulder. “There’s something else. What is it, Ani?”

            He hesitated for a moment, before murmuring a reply. “It’s my mother.”

            Tali blinked in surprise. “What about her?”

            “She’s dead.”

            “Ah…” Sadness crept over her, squeezing her heart. For years, she’d heard only good things about the woman—mostly from Anakin—and she seemed like a wonderful person. “Have you talked to Master Windu about this?”

            “I had nightmares about her being tortured.” Anakin’s voice was little less than a growl. “I told my master about them and said that I should go to her. He said that my duty was to the Jedi, to Queen Amidala. Padme was the only one who agreed with me. She came with me to Tatooine. And my mother…” His voice caught, and Tali’s heart broke. “My mother had been killed. By _Tusken Raiders_.”

            “Ani, I’m sorry—”

            “BUT THAT’S NOT GOING TO BRING HER BACK, IS IT?” he thundered.

Tali cringed slightly at the sudden darkness that emanated in the Force—coming from _him_.

She was losing her chance. She had to get the anger out of him somehow. Simple meditation wasn’t going to work; surely that was what Mace had suggested at first. Only one other option came to mind. It was going to be a risky venture, but one that Tali was willing to make.

Slowly, she unclasped her light saber from her belt and activated it.

Anakin stared at the laser in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I remember when my mother died. The anger stayed for weeks on end. It was hell trying to get out of that dark hole and back into the light. I don’t want that for you.” She twirled her light saber. “So, fight me.”

He pursed his lips. “We could get caught.”

“Do you care?”

She had expected him to be reluctant at first, but then his face broke into a wide grin. He stepped up to her and activated his light saber. “Are you sure about this?”

“Of course,” she said, getting into the proper fighting stance. “Just don’t kill me, okay?”

They started with the casual striking of light saber, something that had become child’s play over the years. It was Anakin who took the initiative to change things up a bit.

His blows came harder, faster, and so did hers. Before she knew it, they were in a full-blown duel, padawan against padawan. His eyes were hard with concentration, while her lips were set in a thin line. Their feet moved in tandem with their strikes, keeping balance and lengthening blows.

Tali could see the darkness leaking out of him in waves, and she did her best to dispel it, drawing power from the Light Side of the Force. It seemed to be working.

“Let go, Anakin,” she said firmly. “Let it all out.”

With a hard grunt, his scowl deepened and he attacked her with even more fervor. Tali became hard-pressed in keeping him at bay. She only had to do so until his anger was gone, at which time, they could stop.

Before she knew it, they had gained an audience. Padawans, mostly, but some knights as well. Tali could vaguely discern the looks of awe on their faces. She and Anakin were no longer just Jedis in combat. They were one with Force, warriors bathed in power and light.

As their dueling reached its peak intensity, the Jedi masters chose the most inopportune moment to enter the scene. A pale man, a black man, several other vague shapes, and a small green thing—that was all Tali could make of them, past Anakin’s fierce gaze and the blur of blue light in his hands.

There came a deep, angry voice. “Anakin! What in the Force are you doing?”

Anakin didn’t seem to hear it; if he did, then he chose to ignore it.

And then came another voice, one that Tali could recognize from any planet-full of organisms. “Tali, stop at once!”

_“I can’t, master,”_ she sent his way. _“Anakin is so close to—”_

She made a mistake in analyzing Anakin’s movements. In an effort to catch herself from a free-fall, she batted his light saber away and whirled around.

_“Padawan, what are you talking about?”_ Obi-wan said through their Force-bond. Tali’s focus slipped.

There was blinding hot pain in her shoulder. Grimacing, she caught Anakin’s light saber with her own and pushed him away. He stepped back willingly, looking at her with a small, sheepish grin. Tali glanced down and regarded the line of torn cloth and charred skin on her left shoulder.

Raising her head, she threw a warning, yet equally apologetic look to her master, who was at the forefront of the crowd, before engaging Anakin in battle once more, determined to mark him in return.

It took her a few minutes to do so, managing to nick his right shoulder blade. At the time, she could already feel her master’s patience slowly reaching its end. Anakin locked their light sabers together and looked her in the eye. He smiled—a gleeful, genuine smile.

“Enough,” he said. “That’s enough.”

Relieved, Tali pulled away and deactivated her light saber. Anakin did the same. With a single glance, she noticed the change in him and his Force-presence. Her plan had worked.

Before either of them had the chance to say more, Mace Windu had pulled Anakin away, and Obi-wan did the same for Tali, giving her the scolding of her life, right into her ear. Tali listened to his rant with utmost patience, knowing that she deserved it, but also knowing that what she did was the right thing. She could feel it in the Force.

When he was finished, Tali finally raised her head and looked him in the eye. “May I explain myself, master?”

His scowl deepened. “You can try.”

It hurt to see the disappointment in his eyes. She did her best to win back his approval. “Anakin was upset over his mother’s death, even more so than I had been with mine,” she said. “I knew that things would only get worse if his anger festered. So I dueled him in the hopes of helping him get it all out—to become a conductor of sorts.”

And she continued to explain herself in detail, desperate to appease her master.

“I did only what the Force was telling me to, master,” she finished, bowing her head once more. The very picture of repentance.

She was surpsied when her master’s reply was: “You could have been severely hurt, padawan. Anakin is a very strong Jedi.”

“He would never hurt me, master.”

At that, Obi-wan raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything going on between the two of you that I should know about?”

The corner of her lip twitched. “Nothing at all, master. We’re just friends.”

He nodded, apparently in approval. “Good. I wouldn’t want anyone stealing away my favorite apprentice.”

Tali raised her head and found a smirk on his lips. She chuckled. “Never, master. My loyalty belongs to you and only you, as you already know.”

“Yes, as I already know.” He looked down at her with a wide smile. “But you’re still in trouble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the beginning notes, please drop a comment. :(


	5. Elsewhere

**Elsewhere**

            Tali looked at her master again, unable to hide her unease. “Master, are you sure about this?”

            For some reason, he found her anxiety quite amusing. “Again, Tali—yes, I am sure,” he replied. “It’ll only be for a week or so. Just a scouting mission. I’ll be laying the ground for someone else. At least I won’t be the one who’s going to actually attack the base, hm?”

            “Even a scouting mission isn’t very easy, master,” she retorted. “Especially with…”

            He stopped his packing for a moment and raised his eyebrow. “Especially with what, padawan?”

            “With _that_.” She nodded to his arm. The skin from his elbow to his knuckles were covered in bandages, and though some unknowing people might not notice, Tali could see it as clear as day. She had been there when he’d gotten the injury in the first place.

            “This thing?” Obi-wan laughed. “Tali, it’s just a few scrapes and bruises. You’d know; you were there.”

            “I don’t remember seeing _just a few_ scrapes and bruises.”

            While her expression darkened, his only softened. He came away from his luggage and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, my padawan,” he said. “But you must trust me on this. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

            As his words sunk in, Tali felt him in the Force, soothing her frayed nerves. Such intimacy was only reserved for masters and their padawans, and vice versa. Obi-wan had trusted her with his life many times before. The time had finally come for Tali to return the favor, to trust him.

            Oh, but how difficult it was, knowing how stubborn he could be at times.

            She sighed and dropped her head in defeat. “Yes, master.”

            “Thank you.” Obi-wan gave the underside of her chin a little tap before returning to his bags and resuming his packing.

            When he was finished, Mace Windu gave her permission to accompany him to the space terminal. They walked through Coruscant in silence, Obi-wan no doubt thinking about his mission and how he was going to carry it out, while Tali simply enjoyed his presence beside her. It would be a while before they got to walk together again.

            Eventually, they arrived at the terminal. Obi-wan entered the lift that would take him to the ship. He dropped his bags, and Tali obediently did the same for his one other, heaviest bag. And then the automated voice was saying through the speakers, “The lift will be leaving in one minute.”

            “I’ll be fine, Tali,” he said, undoubtedly seeing the anxiety on her face. “Do try not to worry about me too much. Focus on your lessons, your kata.”

            “Yes, master.” Tali could only nod. What had she been expecting when she first started questioning him? He wouldn’t ignore his duties as a Jedi just because of some injury.

            He said nothing more, just threw her a toothy grin, trying to lighten her mood. It only served to worsen her angst as she began working out the odds of her ever seeing him again, that smile that could light up an entire room.

            The lift doors closed, shielding him from Tali’s sight. She waited by the docking area, safely behind the yellow line, as the ship got farther and farther away. There were no windows. The spacecraft got smaller and smaller, until such a time that Tali could no longer see it.

            With a heavy heart, she turned away and began the long, lonely trek back to the Jedi Temple. She would have taken it step by step, taking her time, but Obi-wan wouldn’t want her to be late for her classes.

            The days went by. While the sun was up, Tali’s brain was on autopilot. She listened during lectures and cooperated fully during kata practices. During free periods, she would spend time with Anakin. Whenever he was busy, she would go to the mechanic’s pit. The mechanics were mostly left alone to do their work, so Dash could always make time to talk to her.

            But when the sun was gone and the stars were visible, when Tali lay on her bed, her mind would roam. Obi-wan was always a part of the nightmare—sometimes, Anakin and Dash were as well. There was a pattern. Tali, Dash and Anakin were the padawans coming in to save the day, but something wrong would always happen, and in the end, Obi-wan always died.

            The nightmares came every night. And every morning, once Tali was awake, there would be several, long minutes of her struggling to breathe as the remnants of the dream played back in front of her. Afterwards, she would search her feelings and check her connection with her master. It was always still intact, and he was always still all right.

            She missed him terribly.

            One evening, when the sun was on its way down, she felt a familiar, old presence touch her through the Force.

_“Padawan,”_ said Yoda. _“Your master has sent us a call. He’s boarded a lift. Meet him at the shuttle.”_

            Tali all but broke into a sprint in the direction of the city. Excitement coursed through her veins, and she struggled to force it down. The Jedi didn’t condone being overly emotional. In fact, they didn’t condone emotion at all; perhaps compassion, and kindness, but anything else they considered a nuisance to reason. Tali didn’t very much agree with that part of the Code, but she had no right to complain.

            She checked her Force-connection with Obi-wan, and for the first time in days, she was able to feel his presence.

            She arrived at the shuttle and waited for his lift to finish docking. When the lift doors opened, Obi-wan stood there, shouldering all of his bags, a weary but pleased look on his face.

            Tali was ecstatic to see her master again; she could have cried tears of joy at knowing that he was fine, that her nightmares were just that—nightmares; figments of her imagination.

            Instead, she rushed forward and relieved him of some of the weight.

            “I take it that the mission went well, master?” she asked.

            “Very well, padawan.” But there must have been something in her voice that gave her away, for he was soon frowning and looking at her with stern eyes. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

            She shook her head. “Nothing important, master. Just… It was nothing.”

            “It doesn’t sound like nothing. Come on, tell me.”

            Staring down at her feet, she said, “I’ve had these dreams, master. About you. I thought… I thought you’d gotten hurt.”

            Instantly, his gaze softened. He tapped the underside of her chin, like what he had done when he left, forcing her to look at him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

            “Yes, master.”

            He smiled and placed his hand on her back, gently pushing her forward. Together, they walked back to the temple.


	6. Flower Child

**Flower Child**

            Obi-wan kept a safe distance away from their objective—a slave trader named Mayet—and observed the progress of his padawan as she used the Force to get some needed information out of the trader. But he saw that she was also using some of her feminine wiles. He didn’t very much approve.

            When she was finished, she gave Mayet one last sultry look before walking away from him and entering the crowd. The mass was considerably thick, giving her the chance to disappear for a few moments before she reappeared at Obi-wan’s side, a look of focused detachment on her face.

            “That took long,” Obi-wan said. “Too long. What you did was inappropriate, padawan.”

            “You once told me that nothing should come between a Jedi and his success, master. Least of all not modesty.”

            “Yes, but not with the risk of your reputation.”

            “I didn’t tell him that I was a Jedi.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Relax, master. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you were getting jealous.”

            He huffed and, ignoring the last part of her statement, asked, “Did you get the information?”

            “Trader Mayet records every one of his transactions, master,” Tali replied. There was a hint of pride in her voice. “The name of the second party, the objects that were exchanged, the amount, and what time the transactions were made. There is proof that our client was elsewhere when the assassinations took place. He has an alibi.”

            “Good. Now let’s get out of here. Some people are starting to get suspicious.”

            His padawan subtly gazed around. It was unlikely that she didn’t notice the way some of the pub mates were glaring at them, the way their eyes flickered to the waistbands of their pants, where their light sabers were hidden. “Agreed,” she said.

            Side by side, they hastily exited the pub. But as they were striding across the sandy plains of Tatooine, on their way to the jet, Tali’s serious exterior broke. She smirked at her master and asked, “ _Were_ you jealous, master?”

            “Jealous? Why would I be jealous? No, I don’t think that’s the word for it.” He looked at his padawan in slight incredulity, hiding his actual feelings for as long as she didn’t ask. And it didn’t take long for her to ask.

            “Then what is the word for it, master?”

            At least he tried. “Honestly?” Sighing inwardly, he said, “I’m saddened.”

            “Saddened?”

            “Yes, saddened. Don’t be so surprised. I’m not heartless.”

            It was meant to be a jest, but his tone of voice and the crinkles on the corners of his eyes seemed to be lost to Tali. She stopped, and when Obi-wan turned to look at what was happening, she was knelt on one knee, head bowed. The sight left him astonished.

            “I’m sorry if my actions have disappointed you, master Obi-wan,” she said. “It wasn’t and never will be my intention to cause you sadness.”

            It took him a moment to find words. “Stand up” was the first thing he said. Tali did so quickly. Obi-wan regarded her for a few seconds, wondering where the young girl he had first recruited had gone.

            “Let’s get out of the heat,” he said.

            The rest of the walk back to the jet was spent in silence. Tali remained abashed while Obi-wan searched his feelings, unsure of what he wanted to do.

            He opened the jet doors using the Force. Once the both of them were inside and the engines were started, Obi-wan looked at Tali. Really looked at her—her dusty cropped hair, her bright blue eyes; her slender but muscular, well poised stature; the youthfulness that was still very clear on her face. And her presence in the Force was strong—so much potential for someone so young.

            Obi-wan knew that she had barely scratched the surface of what she was capable of.

            “Tali,” he started, a bit uncertainly. “I’m not sad because of what you did. You were able to retrieve the date that we needed; that’s all that matters. I’m sad because… you’ve grown up, my padawan.”

            Tali looked confused. He couldn’t blame her. He felt very much the same way, but the Force was pushing him on, telling him to continue.

            “When you were younger, one of your friends gave you this bouquet of flowers—Mari-qar, I think her name was. And I remember that you made me this flower crown.”

            His padawan’s eyes widened almost comically. “I didn’t.”

            Obi-wan grinned. “You did. The days following that, I made sure I was wearing it whenever I passed by your sessions with Yoda, until he scolded me himself.”

            Tali gave a short chuckle. “And I cried afterwards because I got scared of the little troll.”

            “Yes.” Nostalgia clouded Obi-wan senses. “Sometimes I can’t help but to wonder where that wide-eyed girl has gone.”

            With a sad smile, she replied, “I had to grow up sometime, master.”

            “I know. I just didn’t know it would happen so quickly. Qui-gon never gave me talks like this, so I had no idea what to expect.”

            He could feel Tali’s eyes on him, trying to figure out where such melancholy had come from. “You still have me, master. For another five years, at least.”

            Obi-wan only nodded. As suddenly as the feelings had come, they were gone. “Let’s not waste our time any longer, hm? Yoda will be expecting us.”

            He flipped switches and made sure everything was in order. Though before he pushed the thrusters forward, he glanced over his shoulder at Tali.

            He patted the co-pilot’s seat. “Come on then.”

            If he had glanced backwards a second time, he would have seen the smile of adoration on Tali’s face. But he didn’t, and Tali didn’t need to be told twice. She took her seat beside him, and then they were blasting through space.


	7. Just A Dream

**Just A Dream**

            “He really is very handsome, you know,” Atel said. “The perfect suitor for you.”

            Tali rolled her eyes and playfully slapped her mother’s arm, which was looped through hers. “For the last time, mother, engaging in a romantic relationship with another Jedi is against the Code,” she replied. “And you know how much this means to me.”

            “I know how much _he_ means to you.”

            “He is a very close friends, nothing more.” She sighed. “Besides, he’s too old for me.”

            Atel shrugged. “I never believed in that load of bantha droppings. Sometimes we fall for the wrong people, but that’s just the way love is.”

            “I never knew you to stand apart from the crowd, mother.”

            “Now you do, and don’t forget it.”

            Tali’s laugh echoed all across the courtyard. It was light and mirthful, but for someone reason, it sounded like a death march to her ears. The smile fell from her face and she became wary, eyes darting from side to side.

            There was a pit in her stomach, and her Jedi senses were telling her that something was amiss. At that moment, she wished that Obi-wan was with her, if only to help keep her mother safe.

            “Tali?” Atel shook her daughter’s arm. “What’s wrong, love?”

            “Something’s not right,” Tali whispered in reply. “Get behind me—”

            Before she could finish, Atel was ripped out of her reach by a figure dressed in black. His mask resembled a skull, and he was holding a light saber in his hand. When he activated it, the laser was black.

            With a growl, Tali unclipped her own light saber from her belt and pressed the activate button, but it wouldn’t work.

            Her heart dropped. She tried again, but still it wouldn’t activate.

            The dark man’s grip on her mother was like steel. He raised the light saber above his head. Tali made a move to intercept the his blow, stretching her arm to grab hold of the man’s forearm and stop him from bringing his saber down. But something kept her from moving, like cement had been poured over her feet.

            Atel was screaming. The dark man threw her to the ground, where she tried to crawl away. He placed his foot on her stomach, pressed down. And then he brought his light saber down, and it cut through Atel’s neck with a sickening sound.

* * *

 

            Tali woke up with a short yell, loud enough, she was sure, to be heard from the room directly adjacent to hers. She could already sense Obi-wan’s mind shifting from dreams to reality, but the churning in her stomach quickly took over her senses.

            She leapt to her feet and rushed to the fresher, where she promptly knelt in front of the toilet and vomited anything that was lucky enough to still be in her stomach. Afterwards, she leaned over the sink and rinsed out her mouth. She still felt sick, but she had gained enough control of herself to keep from puking again.

            When she’d finished cleaning her mouth, she straightened up with a groan, and froze at what she saw in the mirror.

            Her face, which had always been the spitting image of her mother’s beauty, was now pale and sweaty. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was a mess. A disgrace. The Jedi who couldn’t even protect her own family from harm.

            With no thought of what she was doing, Tali drew her arm back and punched the mirror. The glass shattered under the force of her blow; when she looked at her fist, the skin on her knuckles was torn and bloody.

            Just as the pain registered to her senses, the door to her room burst open. Stumbling in came her master, light saber at the ready. Tali watched as his eyes quickly scanned the room, wary of anything. But then they fell on her figure, and he stopped.

            His eyebrows came together in confusion. “Tali? What—” He caught sight of her mangled hand. His confusion soon turned into concern, and with that concern came an underlying anger. “Come with me,” he said.

            Tali kept her peace as he led her through the Jedi Temple and into the healing ward. The healing bot on duty took a quick scan of her injury, sat her on one of their immaculately white benches, took out the tiniest pair of tongs Tali had ever seen, and then proceeded to remove the small fragments of glass that were stuck in her flesh.

            All the while, Tali could feel Obi-wan watching her. She glanced up for a moment and allowed him to see the shame and regret in her eyes, and she felt his anger simmer down somewhat.

            The bot sprayed liquid bacta onto her knuckle, causing Tali to hiss slightly at the sting, before it wrapped her hand with bandages.

            “At least you had the common sense not to injure your fighting hand,” Obi-wan said as soon as they were alone. “What brought this on, padawan?”

            Tali wished he hadn’t asked. That way, she wouldn’t have to explain herself. “I was upset, master,” she said, trying to evade the real problem.

            “Give me a straight answer.” He looked at her with stern eyes, then, the epitome of a wronged master. “Why did you wake up in the middle of the night and punch your mirror?”

            “Isn’t it obvious, master?” At the enraged scowl on his face, she bowed her head again. “I had another dream. About my mother.”

            “They’ve never caused you to lash out like this before,” he pointed out.

            Tali took a deep breath and started fingering the edges of the bandage on her hand.

            “She was killed in this dream, master,” she replied, “by a Jedi of the Dark side.”

            At this, her master’s tone softened. “I can understand your anguish, padawan. Losing a parent is difficult—a mother, especially,” he said. “But I cannot condone such rash behavior. You can’t continue hurting yourself like this. It puts your life and your training regime at risk.”

            “I’m sorry, master.” Her tone had taken on a detached quality, and she wasn’t surprised when Obi-wan noticed.

            “Padawan,” he murmured, and then, seeming to have changed his mind, said, “Tali.” She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “You can talk to me about anything. _Anything_. You know that, right?”

            “I know, master. But…” Her voice, so thick with emotion, broke at the last word. She struggled to rein herself in. “You don’t understand. You _can’t_ understand. You’re Obi-wan Kenobi; you’re—”

            “Perfect?” He raised an eyebrow. “Undefeated? The invincible Sith destroyer? Tali, I’m anything but, especially when it comes to you.” He leaned forward, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Tell me.”

            She gazed at him with watery eyes. “I’m a disgrace to your name, master,” she whispered. “I can’t keep myself in check. I couldn’t even protect my family—how am I supposed to protect the balance of the Force?”

            The more she spoke, the wider his eyes became in his disbelief. “Tali, listen to me very carefully,” he said, and there was an urgency in his voice that she only ever heard during missions.

            “Yes, master.”

            “I want you to stop that kind of thinking immediately.”

            “But—”

            “Don’t interrupt me! You are not a disgrace. You are anything but. You pass all your subjects, and the other masters have nothing but praise for you. Tali, in all honesty, I couldn’t have asked for a better padawan, and I thank the Force every day for giving you to me.

            Despite her warring emotions, Tali couldn’t help the blush that crept up her neck. She ducked her head to hide it, while Obi-wan remained persistent.

            “As for keeping yourself in check,” he said, “Control comes with experience. Now, you have plenty of both, but there are just some things that are bound to break you.” Leaning back, he looked at Tali with appraising eyes. “I asked you a very important question just last week. Do you remember it?”

            She pursed her lips in an effort to recall. “You asked me why Jedis are always instructed to meditate.”

            “And your answer?”

            “Because it’s the only way to completely balance ourselves, and to keep in contact with the Force.”

            Obi-wan nodded. “The Force is where the Jedi gain their strength. Without it, we are nothing. Which is why I want you to walk with me.”

            Tali stood and followed him out of the healing ward, asking, “Where are we going, master?”

            “To the gardens, to meditate,” he answered. “I want you to release all of your anger into the Force, all your insecurity. Fear is what weakens a Jedi, what leads him onto the path to the Dark Side, and if I understood you correctly, you don’t want to be weak.”

            “I want to be as strong as you, master.”

            He smiled. “And that day is nearing, padawan. I can sense it. But for now, we must find refuge in the Force.”

            “Yes, master.”

            While they were walking, Obi-wan remembered how distraught his padawan had been when she’d found out of her mother’s death—so distraught that she had been three steps away from committing murder.

            “None of us expected you to be able to protect your mother that day, Tali,” he said. “Not even Yoda could stop it. Remember that.”

            To his surprise, a hint of a smile appeared on her face. “Do you think the little troll is watching us now, master?”

            He chuckled lightly. “Most probably.”

            They arrived at the gardens and sat down on the stone bench there. “Close your eyes. Feel the Force,” Obi-wan gently prompted. He waited for Tali to do as he said before following suit.

            Silence reigned for minutes on end—perhaps even hours. Obi-wan was deep in the Force when he suddenly heard his padawan speak.

            “Thank you, master,” she whispered, “For everything.”

            He felt her presence in the Force draw nearer and envelope his in a “Force-hug”, a term she had coined during her early years of training and when she’d first discovered the sensation of the Force in her mind.

            He smiled. _Thank you as well, my padawan._


	8. Appeal

**Appeal**

            The interrogation went well; their pirate had given Obi-wan all the needed information on the unknown planet that had come up in the Jedi’s investigation on the recent terrorist attacks on Coruscant. He was pricey, but the data he’d given was more than satisfactory.

            As Obi-wan tipped his head in a brief gesture of thanks, he heard someone new enter the bar, their arrival highlighted by the unpleasant sound of a buzzer of some sort. Curious, Obi-wan turned to see who it was.

            Human, surprisingly so; he had curly bronze hair, bright blue eyes, tan skin, and a strong and athletic build—Obi-wan had no idea who he was, but he was sure to be wealthy, considering the clothes he wore.

            He suddenly felt a sharp spike in his padawan’s Force-presence. At first he thought that perhaps she was in trouble, so he began shoving through the crowd more roughly. But then his eyes fell on Tali, and she was in no trouble at all. She just stood there by the entrance, waiting. Her attention was locked onto something, and there was an odd expression on her face.

            After briefly scanning their surroundings, Obi-wan realized that she was staring at the newly arrived stranger. And he could guess why.

            He harbored no ill feelings towards such emotions, especially coming from her. She was human, after all, no longer very young, but not yet an adult either. She was in her adolescence, the most difficult stage for a Jedi to face. But Obi-wan would help her now.

            Eventually, the stranger had to turn around, and Obi-wan noticed how Tali’s gaze lowered, away from his head and on to more… appealing parts.

            “Tali,” he called.

            At once, she tore her attention away from the man and switched it all onto Obi-wan. “Master,” she greeted with a hint of surprise. She walked over to him. “Did he have the information we needed?”

            “Yes, it’s all in here now.” He tapped his temple with a finger before nodding to where she’d been standing before. “What were you doing there?”

            She looked nervous for a moment, and then her features cleared and she answered him in an even tone. “Watching for any suspicious behavior with the tenants, master.”

            He regarded her with one raised eyebrow, having no doubts that she was telling the truth, except for the last few moments—when the most recent stranger had walked in.

            “Alright,” he said. “We’ll be leaving now.”

            As they were walking towards the door, Obi-wan didn’t miss the way she glanced over her shoulder, presumably to get one more look at her new object of interest. Her emotions were coming off of her in spades: intrigue, excitement, confusion, and awe—and Obi-wan was proud to find that there was no lust whatsoever.

            When they were seated safely on the jet and rising through the cosmos in peace, Obi-wan broke the silence, tearing her away from her reverie as well. “I saw the way you were looking at that man, Tali,” he said. He didn’t very much like beating around the bush.

            His padawan look at him, almost shyly. “I apologize, master,” she said. “I know that it wasn’t appropriate for me to do so. It isn’t appropriate for any Jedi. But…”

            She seemed to be at a loss for words, and Obi-wan couldn’t help but to be astonished. That never happened. He decided to explain the situation more clearly to her: “I understand that you are in a very fragile stage, Tali, and I don’t expect you to be perfect, especially at this time in your life. But I expect you to abide by the Code, and do your duty, nevertheless.”

            Acceptance crossed her feature, and she gave a single nod. “Of course, master. I would never do anything to betray the Jedi or the Republic.”

            “Good.” He looked over at his padawan, raising his eyebrows in a playful manner. “What did you see in him, anyway?”

            “He was very handsome, master.”

            Obi-wan feigned offense. “More handsome than me?”

            She grinned. “There’s no such thing, master.”

            A laugh escaped him, and the rest of the journey back to Coruscant was filled with stories of the many girls that Obi-wan had rejected — all for the Jedi — and Tali was filled with something akin to disappointment for a majority of the time, seeing how lonely a Jedi’s life was.

            But at least she still had her master. She knew that he would never hurt her, unlike the other men in the galaxy.


	9. Asphyxiate (Jedi Trial: Spirit)

**Asphyxiate (Jedi Trial: Spirit)**

            Tali stared at the lake before her, recalling the frightful time of when she had nearly drowned during her first two years as a padawan. Her thoughts then wandered to her master; this was her first mission without him, as was the point of the Jedi Trials: to see if a padawan was ready to begin a career without the guidance of his or her master.

            This was her first trial. Her objective was to retrieve an item from behind the wall of the cave she was in. Through the water and under the wall was the only way to go. And seeing as swimming was going to be too simple with her breather, she was positive that there was a clawed or toothed surprise waiting for her underneath the surface.

            Knowing the masters probably had holocams stuck everywhere, she took a deep breath and unclipped her breather from her belt. She made quick work of attaching it onto her mouth and diving into the lake, so she wouldn’t have time for second thoughts.

            She was relieved to find that the water was lukewarm. The upper ground of the cave was infertile and dreary, yet there had been a subtle magnificence to it. Beneath the surface, it was even more beautiful. The stone floor and walls were lined with aquatic plants, and when she entered a grotto of sorts, she saw that the ceiling was covered in small, white shells.

            Fish swam by Tali of all shapes and colors, but it was dark. There was a thin beam of light coming in from an opening out of the grotto in the distance, yet it was so far away that it was barely a ray at all.

            In any other circumstance, the distance wouldn’t have fazed Tali at all. But then she began having a particularly hard time breathing.

            She tried again, drawing breath, and again. There was nothing.

            It was difficult to calm herself, especially when she couldn’t count on breathing to slow her heart rate, and when the next opening was still so far away.

            She forced herself to keep her pace. Tiring herself would only make things worse. She decided against removing the breather. Even if it didn’t draw the oxygen she needed, it still kept water out of her nose and mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused on centering herself, finding her happy place.

            Once she wasn’t so panicked anymore, she opened her eyes once more and continued kicking at the water with renewed, though balanced, fervor.

            Minutes passed, though Tali couldn’t be sure. The longer Tali stayed in the water, the more difficult it was for her to stay collected. She was a Jedi. She wasn’t supposed to die at the hands of nature.

            Days before, she’d thought that her trial would entail having to escape the clutches of some beast, but, in her experience, lack of air was much worse. It played with her senses and left her panicked, struggling to think of a way out of the water—a different way. The grotto’s exit was too far. As she kicked her legs, the light didn’t seem to be getting any closer, while the walls seemed to be closing in around her, suffocating her.

            Then, she noticed something rather peculiar.

            Something was tugging at her right foot. Tugging very lightly, but the pressure was there. Tali would have swum right past the spot if she hadn’t felt a tremor deep within her mind. The Force was trying to tell her something.

            Hurriedly, she glanced down at the place where the wall met the floor. The surrounding plants were bent towards it, as if some force was sucking them in. And when she looked closer, she noticed the water was being sucked in as well.

            The wall was hollow.

            The crevice, she knew, could have easily led to just another passage, where the water was just as endless as where she was floating. But again, the Force shook such doubts away, and her mind was set.

            She swam downwards and grabbed a rock the size of her hand. Using the Force would drain her of her too little vigor. She wasn’t even sure if one hit would break the barrier. Still, with all the strength she could muster, she started pounding on the hollow wall.

            Again and again, she struck it with the rock. She would have stopped and admonished herself, thinking that perhaps the wall wasn’t hollow after all, but then cracks began appearing, and she knew that she couldn’t stop. She had a fleeting thought. _Just what have I gotten myself into?_

            Her lungs were on fire and her stomach felt like it was being sat on by a bantha. Just as her vision was starting to go dark, she was able to reach into the Force and harness just enough power to save herself.

            The rock broke past the barrier. In a rush of noise and light, she could no longer feel the water pressing in on her, and she took a deep breath. No air came into her lungs. She was sure that she was going to die.

            Suddenly, she felt hands on her. Warm hands. One stroked her back while the other travelled to the side of her head. Tali heard a click, and then the breather fell away from her face. She sucked in a deep breath and could have sobbed in sweet relief. The air burned her throat, her heart was beating out of her chest, but she was alive.

            Moments later, she was finally able to reach into the Force again, and she was surprised to feel the presence of her master Obi-wan. She opened her eyes and found him looking down at her, a proud smile on his face, but there was concern there as well.

            “You’ve passed your Trial of Spirit, Tali,” he said. “Congratulations.”

            Tali hung her neck and cursed under her breath, before proceeding to lie down on the wet floor, catching her breath. The room they were in was large — large enough that the water from the underground passage wasn’t even a foot high.

            In-between pants, Tali said, “I… could have… died.”

            “A lesser Jedi would have, but this was just a trial, padawan. We would have gotten you out before any irreparable damage was placed on you,” said her master. “But you saw the crack. You broke through.”

            There was a stab of anger in Tali’s chest — _How could he have left me to endure such pain?_ — before she realized that she couldn’t rely on him to save her anymore. Just like he couldn’t do the same with her.

            “Did I… do good… master?”

            Obi-wan beamed, and the sight was enough to rejuvenate her senses. “You did very well, my padawan,” he said. “But there are still four trials to go.”

            She shook her head. “All I’m interested… in doing tonight is… _not_ taking a shower… and just going to sleep.”

            “Food first, and then you may rest.”

            Tali nodded and allowed him to lead her out of the large room, dripping wet and all. As they exited the space, she caught Master Yoda standing there, looking quite displeased. He had eyes for only Obi-wan. The two seemed to have an unspoken conversation; after a few seconds, they both nodded in unison. Yoda turned and walked away.

            “What was that about?” Tali asked, and Obi-wan frowned.

            “Master Yoda wasn’t very happy with me being the one to take your breather off. He says that it was the final part of your test, and that you should have been the one to do it.”

            She was quiet for a moment, contemplating his words, before she said, “I still passed though, right?”

            “Yes, padawan, you still passed.” A faint smile touched his lips. “I am proud of you.”


	10. Icarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You've married an Icarus, and he's flown too close to the sun."
> 
> Who's watched/listened to Hamilton omg i didn't even know about that quote when i first wrote this chappie but then ugghh im obsessed now

**Icarus**

            Obi-wan clutched Padme’s hand tightly as they ran down the hall of the Senate building, his padawan on the other side of the senator. The droids would undoubtedly catch them if they weren’t fast enough to board the jet in time. They had one mission only: protect Amidala at all costs. She was the future of the Republic. Without her, the democracy would fall into chaos.

            Tali suddenly came running up in front of them. She activated her light saber just as a trio of Destroyers rolled into the scene, stopping just a few meters away. They began firing, and Tali deflected their blaster shots with no small amount of effort. A group of droids came from an adjacent hall and shot at Tali as well. Their blaster fire combined with the Destroyers’ was difficult to overcome.

            Obi-wan activated his light saber as well but could do nothing more except to watch as Tali did all the work. To leave Padme’s side wasn’t an option, but he deeply wished that it were.

            The droids fell one by one, and soon the east hall was littered with their parts.

            “Go, master!” Tali said. “Take the senator to safety.”

            It had been a while since Obi-wan felt fear. True fear. But when he saw two more Destroyers roll in to join the other three, he felt it. Felt it for Tali. Her light saber was nearly invisible in her hand from how quickly she was moving it. But it wasn’t enough.

            She missed a shot of blaster fire, and it hit her square in the shoulder. Seared through skin and nerve. A cry of pain escaped her lips.

            “No!” Obi-wan yelled.

            As Tali was distracted by the pain, the Destroyers took advantage and continued shooting until she was curled up on the ground, skin raw and her clothes charred.

            “No!” he screamed again, all but abandoning Amidala as he ran towards his padawan. “TALI!!”

* * *

 

            Obi-wan shot up from his bed; a yell caught in his throat as his mind emerged from its dream state. His nerves remained frayed and his heart kept pounding into his rib cage until he was finally able to reach out into the Force and calm himself. Yet the memory of his dream remained, and he knew that some part of it was real. They always were.

            After pulling on a tunic and shoving his boots onto his feet, he exited his room and opened the door to Tali’s. He peeked into the doorframe and, through the darkness, saw his padawan lying in her bed, sound asleep. Safe. Breathing. Unburnt. Alive.

            With a sigh of relief, Obi-wan closed the door and silently padded back to his room, where he closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

            The next few days were difficult for him. He constantly felt on edge, thinking that, at any moment, the temple would be attacked and his dream would come true. Whenever he saw Tali, he would remember her charred corpse. So he made it a point to look at her less, but at the same time, to never leave her side unless absolutely necessary.

            It was tedious business, but he couldn’t help but to feel so protective. Even the Force wasn’t enough to soothe him. Some part of him knew that what he was doing was right. If he wasn’t around her, then his nightmare would come to fruition, and he couldn’t let that happen.

            But Tali had to notice sooner or later. She wasn’t dumb; Obi-wan knew that. He caught the suspicious looks she threw his way whenever he was staring, or her sighs of exasperation when he followed her practically everywhere around the temple.

            He had prepared himself for the time when she would confront him about it, and that time came when, yet again, she noticed him staring from across the room while she was talking with her friend Dash.

            With a look akin to thunder on her face, she excused herself from the conversation and marched over to him, fists clenching and unclenching at her sides.

            He feigned confusion. “What is it, padawan?”

            “Ignorance doesn’t suit you, master, and neither does dishonesty,” she retorted sharply. “Why have you been following me?”

            “Following you?”

            She gave a sharp jerk of her head. “I see you everywhere I go. And it’s not that I don’t like seeing you, master — I do — but not to such extents that I find you watching me when I’m talking with my friends or walking to my classes. It’s… creepy.”

            Obi-wan sighed. The ruse had failed, as he’d known it would eventually. “I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you, Tali.”

            “Not frightened, master, just… worried. Has something happened?” When Obi-wan didn’t answer, naturally, she turned to the worst possibility. “Have I done something to disappoint you, master?”

            He shook his head vigorously. “Not at all.” Then he finally raised his head and met her gaze, and there was something about the way her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed in concern—for _him_.

            Just like that, everything that he had wanted to say, the explanation that he had planned beforehand, flew out of his head, leaving him scrambling for words.

            “It’s…” He stuttered for another moment before finally forming a coherent sentence. “Will you walk with me?” he asked.

            She nodded, thankfully, though a frown remained on her face as they walked out of the main corridor, away from prying eyes.

            When he had gathered his thoughts, he said in a mutter, “Something’s happened, Tali.”

            Her Force-presence, which was usually so light and strong, faltered at the news. “What?”

            “The Senate building was attacked by droids.”

            Her frown deepened, and she turned her head to the side, undoubtedly looking out the windows where she could see the rest of Coruscant. “How do you know that, master?” she said. “It looks fine from here.”

            “I was able to get Senator Amidala out and to safety, but you…”

            Tali stopped and, with a firm tug on his sleeve, forced him into a stop as well. “I what, master?”

            He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “You died.”

            From anyone else, he would have expected them to burst out into laughter at the absurdity of what he’d said, but she remained serious, her gaze never faltering. “I’m not dead, master. I’m very much alive,” she said, running her hands over herself. “You see me, don’t you?”

            Hesitantly, he nodded. “I do.”

            “Then what in the galaxies are you talking about?” A small laugh escaped her lips, and the sound of it made his lip curl up slightly.

            “It was in a dream, Tali,” he explained. “You died in my dreams.”

            He watched as the expression on her gaze softened into one of pure understanding—affection, even.

            “It’s been killing me,” he said. “The possibility of my teachings not being able to save you from death… It hurts just to think about it. The disgrace, the shame… the guilt.”

            Slowly, Tali’s hand crept forward and took his; she started playing with his fingers, tracing the lines on his palm. The light feel of her skin on his soothed him like nothing else could. “I remember, a few years ago, you had to leave for a mission off-planet. Every night, I had nightmares, where you were killed… or worse.”

            A dark look crossed her face, and her smile held no humor at all. “It is unfortunate that you’ve had to experience such a feeling.”

            “Tali, I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t know that it could get so bad.”

            “There’s no need for apologies, master.” She squeezed his hand. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

            He was suddenly overcome with the desire to have her close, and not just a graze on the shoulder or a hand on her arm. He wanted to hold her, but the Jedi looked down on such intimacy between masters and their padawans. Nevertheless, he acted on his feelings and pulled her into a hug.

            At first, she stiffened under the contact, but eventually she gave into it and wrapped her arms around his torso. Obi-wan allowed himself to enjoy the contact—her chest again his, her cheek on his shoulder, the feel of her breath fanning over the skin on his neck.

            “I’m not going to die, master. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” She released a laugh that was more air than voice, and she pulled away to look at him, a sparkle in her eye. “What would happen if I left you alone with all the females on this side of the galaxy?”

            He grinned. _What indeed._


	11. Staccato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Staccato  
> (adj. & adv.)  
> \- with each sound or note sharply detached or separated from the others.

**Staccato**

            The gardens were quiet, as they always were during such a time of day. The sun was on its way down, and all the junior learners were either in class or settling down for the day.

            Tali sat on the grass, cross-legged and silent, across from her master. She watched him meditate when she was supposed to be deep in the Force.

            Vaguely, she could feel Obi-wan’s presence in the Force stretching across the whole area as he let the Unifying Force flow through him. With eyes closed and no hint of a crease on his forehead, he looked peaceful. Tali rarely felt envy, but what she felt at that moment was something akin to it. There was a pain in her chest and she couldn’t keep still, the telltale signs of her warring emotions.

            Without opening his eyes, Obi-wan said, “Center yourself, padawan.” His voice was distant, almost detached, and Tali knew that he would just discourage her if she tried talking.

            She took a deep breath in an effort to follow his instructions. Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth—and on her heart beating steadily in her chest.

            For a minute or so, it worked. Her thoughts slowed down and she was finally able to sense the life around her—the trees, the plants, the miniscule ants. But then she felt Obi-wan’s familiar presence: powerful, intimidating, but also gentle, warm, inviting; everything about him that had made her fall in—

            She stopped there. Stopped her thoughts from becoming too dangerous. Stopped them from getting to far, because once they did, she’d be lost all over again.

            Obi-wan was easily able to notice her distress, and he sighed, opening his eyes and looking at her exasperatedly. “Something is troubling you,” he said. “What is it, padawan?”

            Tali wanted nothing more than to evade the question, but she knew that her master could be infinitely stubborn when he wanted to be. So, she supposed that, perhaps, she could yet save herself with a little white lie.

            “I’ve been thinking a little, master,” she said.

            “More than a little, if your feelings have anything to say about it.”

            Biting back a groan at the small smile that inched up his lips, she added, “About the Jedi Code… One statement in particular has been bugging me for a while now.”

            “Which one?” He leaned forward, seeming to be genuinely interested.

            “A Jedi shall not know anger, nor hatred, nor love.” She licked her lips and lowered her gaze to the ground, afraid that her eyes would give away her thoughts. “Is it really wrong for a Jedi to love, master?”

            He looked perturbed that she would ask such a question, and she couldn’t blame him. If she were in his shoes, training a padawan with nearly no bad streak at all, she would feel the same. “Some believe that love is strong enough to defeat all evil, and there is nothing wrong with that idea,” he said slowly, almost cautiously. “But for the Jedi, any kind of emotion is dangerous, especially love.”

            “Why?”

            “Love is… unstable. If a Jedi were to love a woman who didn’t love him back, he would be enraged. Some would even go so far as to kill. Such starts the path to the Dark Side.” Obi-wan sighed. “Of course, there are purer motives. Like how a Jedi loves her mother so much that she would do anything to keep her from harm—even turn to the Dark Side for secrets that can keep her from dying.”

            A scowl crossed Tali’s features. “I wouldn’t do that, master.”

            “You were close, but I am thankful that you didn’t.” He offered a smile as recompense for his past rude comment. “It is why the chosen Jedi are taken from their parents as babies, so there will be no ill feelings. You and Anakin were… special cases.”

            Tali frowned, knowing how much more difficult it had been for her and Anakin to cope, to stay on the right path, after their mothers had died. Obi-wan had stopped the darkness in her very early on in the process, but Anakin had been worse off, and she was thankful that she’d been able to stop him from turning.

            “Should a Jedi not love the Republic, then, master?” she inquired. “Isn’t that why we do what we do?”

            He shook his head. “We do what we do because it is our duty, to ourselves and to the Force. From a very early age, it’s what we’ve been taught: to do things for the good of others, and expect nothing in return.”

            Indeed, a Jedi’s life was a humble one. Tali didn’t mind that fact at all; she minded the fact that she had gotten herself in too deep a situation to just suddenly stop.

            Swallowing nervously, she said, “And… Should a padawan not love her master?”

            “I think the word that you’re searching for is _care_ —”

            “No, master. You’ve known me since I was a child. I’ve known you all my life. We know everything about each other. If given only a moment to decide, we would lay our lives down for each other, die for each other. Is that not the definition of love?”

            An odd smile appeared on his face, somewhat surprised, but also hesitant. “Yes, I suppose it is.” And then his face was serious again, and he was looking at her with such intense eyes, she just had to look away.

            He was trying to read her, she knew it, and so she strengthened her mental shields. If he was upset that she did so, he didn’t show it. He only asked, “Where is this coming from, Tali?”

            “If I told you, I would be kicked out of the Order.”

            “Is it Anakin? Have you… fallen for him?”

            A short, humorless laugh escaped her lips. She shook her head and couldn’t help but to muse, _If only it were that simple_.

            “We’re just friends, master,” she said. “It’s… It’s something much more complicated than that.”

            “Love can be the cause of many things, my padawan, and not all of them are good.” Her master sighed and leaned back, but he didn’t look away from her. “This is something I cannot instruct you in, Tali. If you have fallen for someone, I can only advise you to be careful with your heart.”

            Tali smiled a bit, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “I bet you would know all about it, master.”

            “I’m not so heartless as to never have loved before,” he murmured, almost a whisper, as if they were sharing a secret. “But life is a most cruel teacher. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

_Then don’t hurt me,_ she wanted to say, but that would give it all away. So she granted him a small glimpse into her mind as well as into her heart, letting her feelings flow through their bond for little more than a second, before she pulled it all back and corked the bottle once more.

            “I would like to retire now, master,” she said. “Good night.”

            She turned and walked away, but if she had stayed for a minute more, she would have seen the utter astonishment settle onto his features. There was no confusion, no anger that she had hidden such things from him—in fact, there might have even been a glimmer of hope there.

            Perhaps the two of them weren’t as damned as he had once thought.


	12. Herculean (First Initiate Trial)

**Herculean**

            The first stage of a Jedi’s training was having direct classes and interactions with Master Yoda. It was easy enough, if a person was Force-sensitive. All they had to do was heed the little troll’s teachings, not take him from granted, and stay as faithful with the Light Side of the Force as humanly possible.

            When Yoda deemed an initiate “ready”, he or she, along with a handful of others, would take the Initiate Trials—which was basically just a dumbed down version of the Jedi Trials. It was the only way a youngling could start down their official path in the Jedi Order; if they finished the Trials, they would be given a few weeks to gain the attention of a master, and if they failed in doing that, they would be given the chance to stay as a helper or leave the Order altogether and forge a normal life.

            Tali didn’t want that. Ever since she’d discovered that she was Force-sensitive, she was dead-set on becoming a Jedi—a powerful one. Though her parents also lived on Coruscant, she had been separated from them and taken to live at the Jedi Temple. She rarely saw them anymore, but whenever she did, she knew she was already bending the rules by just keeping in touch.

            She was seventeen years old when she was picked out for the Initiate Trials, along with four others. They were going to complete with each other, in a way, but they were also going to go through the Trials as allies—finding strength in each other, yet battling at the same time.

            The first trial was to test their knowledge of the Jedi Code. When they first entered the room, Tali’s nerves disappeared somewhat upon seeing that there was nothing deadly laid out for them; just four walls and a space wide enough for six or seven people.

            Yoda wasn’t going to be administering to them. Instead, a man with greying hair and a stern face walked into the room, trailed by a similar looking woman with an even fiercer scowl. They could have been siblings, and they were undoubtedly Jedi.

            “I am Master Tiberius,” said the man.

            “And I am Master Claudia,” said the woman. “We are to be your instructors for today. You’ll follow everything—and I mean _everything_ —that we say.”

            “Yes, master,” Tali and the other initiates, replied in unison.

            Tiberius pointed to the smooth, unsullied floor. “Get on the floor, give me fifty sit-ups and fifty push-ups,” he ordered. “Start now.”

            Tali wondered as to what sit-ups and push-ups had to do with the Jedi Code, but she still followed. The initiates dropped to the floor and began with the sit-ups, doing them hastily so as to appease the masters sooner. Tali, however, got about the task as leisurely as she could without seeming smug or prideful. She knew that a hurried pace would only tire her out quicker.

            Ultimately, she was the last to finish, but she was evidently less red-faced and breathing easier than the others were.

            “Now,” Claudia said. “Get on your stomachs. Get your toes on the floor and your forearms beneath you. Your elbows should be in line with your shoulders.”

            The initiates were familiar with the position. Yoda would often make them do it as part of their daily workout, to strengthen their cores. Tali and the others waited for the masters’ signal to get their stomachs off the ground.

            And then Tiberius said, “Push your feet off the ground and into the air. They should be in line with the rest of your bodies.”

            Tali’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. Yoda had never used this position with any of them before, but then she saw Maris, one of the older initiates, get into the position that Tiberius had described. Tali recalled a time when she had seen one of the padawans in such a position. It looked very difficult, very straining.

            Claudia and Tiberius raised their eyebrow at them expectantly. “What are you waiting for?”

            A soft snort escaped Maris, and while the others eyed her in doubt as they tried to imitate the position, Tali went with her gut and pushed her feet upwards. She very nearly fell over the other way in the process, but eventually regained her balance.

            Soon, all five of them were upside down, using their forearms as legs, their feet pointed skywards. Everything was silent for what must have been a full minute: Claudia and Tiberius watched them with serious eyes, while the initiates merely focused on staying in position.

            And then the masters came forward, Claudia on one end of the line, where Maris was, and Tiberius on the other end. “Recite the Jedi Code for me.”

            “All of it?” one initiate exclaimed, while Maris simply began spewing out the Code like she was a droid.

            “A Jedi shall not know anger, nor hatred, nor love…”

            Tali gritted her teeth and waited for her to finish, knowing that she was next in line. She reached into the Living Force and distracted herself with the eternal vastness of it.

            When Claudia stepped away from Maris and to the front of Tali, she barely noticed, too focused on keeping her attention away from her screaming muscles. However, she vaguely saw Claudia’s feet move to stand directly in front of her face. With heavy breaths, she began reciting the Jedi Code.

            It felt like ages before she finally finished. By that time, her arms were shaking and there was a small puddle of sweat beneath her head. She was no better than everyone else; she could sense their exhaustion and anxiety in the Force, coming off of them in spades.

            Claudia moved away from Tali to stand in front of the last initiate, who immediately started as soon as she took the first step.

            His recitation included many stutters and many inconsistencies, but Tali figured that he thought it was a small price to pay for their relief. When he was finished, all of them raised their eyes to Claudia and Tiberius, silently begging them for the word of release.

            Tali would never have expected them to relish in their pain—it wasn’t the Jedi way—but they were damn close.

            After a few long moments of holding back, finally, _finally_ , Tiberius said, “At ease, initiates.”

            All five of them released grunts of exertion and relief as they all but dropped to the ground. And they remained sprawled on the ground, breathing heavily, as Claudia and Tiberius exited the room — not before saying, “Your next trial will be in the sparring room. Be there in ten minutes.”


	13. Familiar

**Familiar**

            _Memories. A monster chasing them through the jungle, its barbed tongue dragging her across the undergrowth, a man saving her and killing the beast, him carrying her in the direction of safety. That was all she could remember, before the pain overshadowed everything else._

_She was burning. It was all she knew for certain. She couldn’t have been dead; there was supposed to be no pain in the Force, only peace._

_The primary source of her agony was coming from her leg… or, at least, where she thought her leg was. She couldn’t be sure anymore. But she could feel the fire spread from there, licking up her body and eating her whole._

_If she was dead, and had been ever since the pain started, then she wanted to wake up. She wanted to be alive again—Force, she would face a swarm of demons if it meant being able to live again, meant being able to get away from such pain._

_Or, if she was alive, then she wanted to be dead._

_Time passed. She didn’t know how much. It felt like years. Hundreds of years. Just lying in the fire and letting it engulf her because there was nothing she could do. She tried reaching into the Force for some form of relief—anything—but it was as if she’d been locked inside herself. She could feel nothing but the heat._

_And then something happened. Something different. A miracle._

_The fire receded. Slowly, like water trickling through a crack. As it went, it was replaced by coolness, like a balm was being rubbed onto her battered body and allowing her to forget the previous agonizing heat._

_Perhaps she had been alive before. This coolness, this salve that was healing her, had to be death. Peaceful. Now she was one with the Force, and she briefly wondered whether she could somehow navigate through the darkness and find her mother._

_Anything was possible through the Force, after all._

* * *

 

            Obi-wan had done everything right. He’d been able to bring Tali back to Coruscant in time, and the medical drones had been able to drain the Galmite’s poison from her bloodstream. Her heart never stopped beating.

            So why wasn’t she fine?

            She’d been sleeping for three days, and she was yet to open her eyes. The drones gave her the needed nutrition by inserting tubes into her veins. But every morning, the fullness in her cheeks gradually disappeared, being replaced by hollow paleness.

            The drones explained that the immense pain could have caused the coma, or the Galmite’s poison could have caused some of her arteries to swell, therefore reducing the blood flow into her brain. There wasn’t any reason for Obi-wan to believe any of these things, so he didn’t.

            But in the hours that he spent just sitting outside the room, looking into the viewing glass, he couldn’t help but to notice how her Force-signature had changed. No longer was it pulsing with energy; it had been dampened, diminished until it was nothing more but a tiny bulb of flickering light.

            It frightened him. He knew then that her coma hadn’t been caused by anything physical, but mental, and perhaps even emotional as well.

            Not knowing what else to do, he brought in two of Tali’s closest friends—Dash and Anakin—along with Master Yoda, in the hopes that their Force-presence would strike a chord of familiarity within her, enough to bring her back to the living.

* * *

 

            _Some time during her isolation, she found out that she wasn’t completely alone. Past the darkness, she felt another presence—and then another, and another. There was so many of them, so entirely different from each other and yet so completely similar. She didn’t know what to make of it._

_There was always one that stood out among the rest. It was always so much brighter than the others, the only one that had ever penetrated the darkness enough for her to feel something other than cold. Something familiar. Something comforting._

_After a while, the bright presence receded. But it returned soon afterwards, and trailing behind it were several other beams of light. Overwhelmed, she could only remain idle as the darkness surrounding her all but bowed to the encompassing lights that had entered the scene._

_She sifted through the lights one by one:_

_There was one whose color reminded her of grass in the springtime. It was by far the largest ball of light, and it was the warmest, which was what drove her away. The cool balm enveloped her once more, and she felt relieved._

_There was one whose color reminded her of a bowl of fresh grapes. It was small and wavering, but something about it was just so loud. It would often pulsate, becoming brighter right before becoming faint again. The process was irritating enough for her to decide to put some distance._

_There was one whose color reminded her of the sea. Despite its promising shade, she felt a certain evil to it that frightened her. Deep within the sphere of blue light was a patch of darkness; it moved like how a shadow would move behind a source of light; trailing and never too far away._

_And there was one last one beside it—the one that always stood out, the familiar one, the comforting one. She had never seen it before, only felt. But it was so utterly golden, so completely pure, that it seemed, to her, as if she was looking into a star._

_She was drawn to it. Reaching out, she touched it, and then she was floating out of the suffocating darkness and into a cool space littered with stars._

* * *

 

            Obi-wan sensed her Force-presence stirring somewhat; it had never done that before. Then, he felt something graze against him, like the lightest of breezes. The feeling of it was familiar.

            And then she opened her eyes.

            A sigh escaped him. Had it truly been so long since he had seen her eyes? Or was his relief just so strong that he couldn’t contain himself?

            Before he knew it, the medical drones had ushered all of them out of the room. Even Master Yoda.

            Dash and Anakin didn’t seem to mind. Their faces were finally lit up again, which they hadn’t been ever since Obi-wan had brought Tali back; they hugged and spoke amongst themselves, taking quick peeks into the viewing glass of Tali’s room.

            Obi-wan remained still, not able to show his happiness at such an event, because Yoda was looking at him with such intensity that he didn’t know what to think. It was as if the aged master was searching his very soul. But then, for all Obi-wan knew, he could have been.

            The troll left without saying a word, yet Obi-wan would have sworn that he’d seen the corner of his lip curl up into a smile.


	14. Hourglass (Second and Third Initiate Trials)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have y'all seen that vid where Ewan sings a song by Catfish and the Bottlemen? It's called Hourglass, hence the name of this chapter. It's perfect swoon material :))

**Hourglass**

            The second trial was a simple sparring session.

            The initiates were instructed to pair up and trade light blows with each other. But since their group was an odd number, one of them would have to fight with one of the masters—as expected, Claudia called Maris over to her, and they sparred. It was obvious that the older one of them was holding back.

            Tali was paired up with one of her male Temple-mates, Gendry. He was one of the noisy ones, but she thought that he was nice enough. He twirled the practice blade in his hand and then stretched it out in front of him, while his other arm went up in an amusing stance. A joking grin appeared on his face, and Tali chuckled in response, raising her blade as well.

            They began dueling, keeping their blows light and playful, but making sure to show Tiberius that they were good fighters as well. The both of them knew that the second trial was to test how competent they were with a blade. Neither of them wanted to mess it up.

            Tiberius called for them to stop about an hour later. Tali and Gendry stepped away from each other, not tired at all. They shared knowing grins.

            The other pairs seemed to be in a similar state, while Maris looked the most exhausted of them all. Sweat beaded her face and she was panting, but she held her head high. Claudia stepped away from her. Tali didn’t miss the approving glint in her eye.

            “Your next trial will be conducted separately,” Tiberius said, “And you’ll be given no more than three days to finish it. If you do not accomplish the tasks assigned to you within the given three days, you’ll have to repeat the Trials.”

            Tali felt nervous. Not because of the prospect of having to repeat the Trials, but because of the fact that, if she failed, it would take longer for her to become a Jedi. She would complete the task if it was the last thing she did.

            As they began exiting the room, Claudia and Tiberius waited by the door and handed each of them small strips of paper.

            “These are your assigned tasks,” Claudia explained. “May the Force be with you all, initiates.”

* * *

 

            Alone in her room and exhausted from all that had happened, Tali reached across her bed for the slip of paper that sat on the desk. With a bit of unease, she unfolded it and read the contents: “Find the names of the first five Jedi who came to existence. Do not use the computers.”

            Her stomach leapt in excitement. Yoda had mentioned one name already during one of his lectures—she only had to find four, and it didn’t seem like such a daunting prospect as she had previously imagined.

            The next day, after eating her morning meal, she went straight for the Archives. Coruscant’s library was one of the largest holders of history and knowledge in the galaxy. If she was going to find important names, she would find it there.

            Tali headed to the Jedi section, an aisle that held nearly a hundred books and scrolls. She collected the important pages, went to the table at the end of the aisle, and began her task. On a piece of paper, she wrote the name of the Jedi that Yoda had mentioned.

            It took her half the day to find a second name; it was mentioned very scarcely in the beginning of the book, but its use widened spectacularly a few pages past the middle. By that time, Tali’s eyelids were drooping in exhaustion. She quickly scribbled the name down and continued reading, hoping to find a third before it got dark out.

            The third name came to her even longer than the second. She glared at it and wrote it down angrily onto her parchment. A whole day spent looking for four names, and she found two. Her exasperation eased when she remembered that she still had two days left. Her chances at success were still rather large.

            Since she’d missed lunch, she was ravenous when dinner was served in the dining hall. After finishing two very full plates of food, she retired for the night, wanting to rest both her mind and body, for the days to come.

* * *

 

            It was nearing evening of the second day and Tali was beginning to panic. She had searched through the entire Jedi section and she was yet to find the last two names. She only had a day left. And she would have kept searching until morning, but when midnight struck, she was ordered out of the Archives by the bookkeeper—his reason being that she wasn’t even a knight yet, and that she had no obligation to pull an all-nighter.

            “I’m sure it’s not even that important,” said the keeper.

            “It’s for my Initiate Trials.” They were infinitely important.

            “You’re given three days, right? You still have tomorrow. I’ll even let you stay as late as you want, but not tonight.”

_That won’t count_ , Tali thought. She exited the Archives with a resigned sigh, wondering where else she could possibly find the names.

            She actually left the Jedi Temple and explored Coruscant, hoping to find another library that held the information she needed. But there was no such luck. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that the Jedi had purposefully hidden the books with any information regarding the names that she needed.

            It occurred to her that she would have finished with her research in a single day, had she been allowed to use the computers. A Jedi’s work could never be easy, she supposed.

            On the morning of the third day, she skipped breakfast and headed straight for the Archives. She marched past the Jedi section and to History. The names were bound to be there. The problem was that each of the thousand books there could hold the two names she needed.

            Tali stared up at the shelves and felt her chest tighten. It was going to be so difficult. But she had to finish the Trials. If not for her, then for her mother.

            With a deep sigh, she got to work.

* * *

 

            Malakhai and Malakith. Twins. Apparently, they were the least important ones of the first Jedi. Tali stared down at their names, reading the paragraph a few more times to make sure that they were really the names she needed. With a yell of triumph, she hurriedly scribbled the names onto her paper, closed the several open books and shoved them into their respective places in the shelves before running out of the aisle.

            The moon was in the sky, but she still had enough time to find either Master Tiberius or Master Claudia before midnight struck.

            She passed by the bookkeeper and waved a hand at him. “I found it!” she called over her shoulder. “Thank you so much for your help!”

            Master Tiberius was waiting for her in the main hall of the Temple, hands clasped in front of him and feet apart. As if he was expecting her.

            “About time,” he remarked dryly.

            “I’m sorry, master. The names were more difficult to find than I thought.”

            Tali handed him the paper with the names on it, and anxiously watched as he ran his eyes across her handwriting. Eventually, he raised his head and gave her an appraising look.

            “Well done, initiate,” he said. “You’ve passed your Initiate Trials.”

            It took all of her self-control not to start jumping in excitement. She had passed! Her emotions must have been strong, for Tiberius’ approving gaze soon turned into disapproval. “You’ll learn to control your emotions better when you gain a master,” he said.

            She frowned slightly. “How long until the Apprentice Tournament starts, master?”

            “Long enough for you to get better with a blade. If I were you, I’d practice more. By the time the tournament starts, the five of you won’t be the only ones competing.”

            Before she could say more, he turned around and strode away from her. Tali watched him go, any of her ill feelings soon turning into pure excitement. The Apprentice Tournament was closing in. Soon, she would find a master. And it wouldn’t be long before she became a full-fledged Jedi.

            Practically glowing in the Force, she retired to the initiate quarters, where she tried, in vain, to fall asleep.


	15. Bohemian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note the tag "Moulin Rouge references"

**Bohemian**

            Obi-wan sat with his padawan in the gardens. Dusk was settling in, painting their surroundings a charming shade of purple. It was peaceful. And as Tali meditated, Obi-wan monitored her feelings, as he was wont to do at least once or twice during their meditation sessions.

            Yoda had once told him that he needed to be more careful with her, as she was in a very delicate phase in her life. Obi-wan understood well; he remembered his adolescence, and how he had caused Qui-gon so much grief with his troublemaking. He was lucky that Tali was a bit more orderly.

            Her mind was deep in the Force—rooted to it, it seemed like. Yet she could remove herself from its deep waters so easily, and that was only one of the signs that said she was very close to finishing her apprenticeship. Soon, she wouldn’t need Obi-wan’s guidance anymore.

            It was a sad thought, the fact that they were going to be separated some time in the future. No longer would they be known as one team, Obi-wan and Tali. They would be known as individuals, a Master and a Knight, only two of many others.

            They had talked about it many times before. Obi-wan had expressed his melancholy thrice already, and Tali even more so. Yoda hadn’t been too happy about it, stating that Jedi should accept things as they come, even if it meant having to break ties and burn bridges, but Obi-wan couldn’t help it. Tali had become such a significant person in his life that it was hard to imagine having to live on without having her familiar presence close by. It was difficult, almost excruciating to think about.

            Just then, a sharp spike of emotion came from Tali’s Force-presence. Surprise, confusion, and… something else that he couldn’t identify.

            Alarmed, Obi-wan opened his eyes, expecting to find her fully conscious and looking to him for answers. Instead, her eyes were closed, her mind still wandering in the Force. The only sign of her warring emotions was her mouth, very slightly opened as she breathed rather heavily.

            “Tali?” said Obi-wan. “Tali, what is it?”

            A slight crease formed on her forehead, yet she did not answer. Obi-wan was considering entering her mind and pulling her out of the clutches of the Force himself, no matter how dangerous it would be for him, when suddenly she blinked.

            She regarded him with a blanket of tears in her eyes, looking like a lost child. Obi-wan’s chest constricted at the sight.

            “What is it?” he asked again. “What happened?”

            “I saw…” Her lips trembled. “I saw… humans. Like us.”

            He looked at her in a new light, then. It was very rare for a Jedi to see something in the Force, especially something vivid enough for her to be able to make out as humans. Only Master Yoda and a handful of others had been reported to ever have such an ability.

            “And?” he said, feigning ignorance.

            “They were wearing such odd clothes, kinds I have never seen before. And the structures around them were… well they were dark. Almost dreary. But…”

            An odd expression eased onto her face, one of vulnerability and confusion. It occurred to Obi-wan that it must have been frightening for her, to have reached into the Force and found herself in another world entirely. Subtly, half of him slipped into the Force and soothed her with light touches.

            A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she looked up to meet his eyes. “But they were singing, master, and it seemed to cancel out everything else that was obscure.”

            “Singing?” Obi-wan repeated, astonished.

            “Yes, master. Singing about freedom, and truth, and—” But she cut herself off, then. The openness on her face was slipping away, slowly being replaced by competence and self-awareness… Obi-wan found himself wanting to see that vulnerability again, that exposure.

            He leaned forward. “And?”

            “And _love_.”

_Oh._

            “Christian—that was the man’s name. And the woman, Satine—oh, he loved her so much, master.”

            Her words spoke of hope, but her eyes looked pained. “How could the Jedi ever think of love as something dark? How could they vow to never feel such a thing? Master, if they could only see what I saw, and feel what I felt as I watched them sing. I never knew that something could be so…”

            She stopped again. Obi-wan hadn’t noticed that he’d been holding his breath until he released a heavy sigh, and his lungs could breathe again.

            “So beautiful,” she finished. A lone tear escaped her eye, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was looking his way, and the intensity of her gaze rendered him speechless. “Have you felt it, master? Love?”

            Of course he had. He felt it for Qui-gon, even now, when he had passed on into the Force. And he felt it for Tali, the one who could madden him and ease his soul all at the same time. He had loved and been loved in return, throughout the course of his life. And she couldn’t be more right.

            He had been told that love—true love—was beautiful. It could move mountains, could make a blind man see the sky. It could change the ways of the galaxy itself.

            But he had also been told that love was rash. It could make people act like they were fools, to throw their lives away for one happy day. It could make weak men level entire worlds all for the sake of one person, never mind the collateral damage. Love was dangerous.

            Obi-wan knew that Yoda wouldn’t want him to instill in Tali the desire to love. Yoda wanted Tali to grow into a levelheaded woman who saw things the way Jedi were supposed to see things.

            “Love is a game, Tali,” he said. “A game of cheating and lying. That is why the Jedi do not love—because if we lose that game, the Dark Side will have taken us for its own.”

            The wounded look on her face almost made him take back everything he’d said, tell her that love was the greatest thing she could ever have. Almost.

            “What you saw was the planet Earth,” he continued. “And the Earthlings are fickle creatures. They will listen to their hearts and presume that it sings. They will kill for love. They will wage wars and burn entire cities to the ground, all because of love.”

            Her gaze turned cold. “And you think that I will do the same?”

            “Emotions, when felt through the Force, are heightened, stronger. I don’t want you to be influenced. Cast out from your mind the notions of love.” He forced a steelier edge into his voice. “Forget it. All of it.”

            He didn’t expect her to do so, and she didn’t disappoint. That night, as he lay awake in bed, his presence waded in the Force. He watched her dreams fly by in flashes of gold and red and white.

_Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place. Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace._

            He imagined, then, what life might have been like had he been born somewhere else—Earth, perhaps. Would he have grown up wealthy or underprivileged? Would he have fought in their wars or lived a charming life away from strife?

            Would he have found love?

_Christian, you may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden gnome whose friends are just pimps and girls from brothels. But I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being._

            What would it be like to be in love? Not just in love with a face, or an idea of someone, but to be in love with the entirety of one person. To love someone body and soul—what would that be like?

            Would it be like falling down a bottomless pit? Would it be like the whole world revolved around that one person? Or would it be like seeing the stars for the first time, every time he gazed into her eyes?

_Storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide, but I’ll love you until the end of time._

            He felt guilty, then, for everything he had said earlier that day, for ordering Tali to banish the concept of love from her mind. If anything, he should have told her to bear it with her for the rest of her life. Because at that moment, as he imagined a life filled with love, he became hopeful. And hope was imperative for a Jedi to have.

            Hope for peace. Hope for the Republic. Hope for the future.

_The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return._

            When he finally fell asleep that night, he shared in Tali’s dreams of a bedazzled city on Earth.

            He felt her joy at seeing the two together again, and he watched alongside her as the famed courtesan and the lowly writer sang and danced inside an oddly shaped, hollow structure, with the night sky behind them and the city lights sparkling beneath their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god i love that movie so much


	16. Vices and Virtues (Jedi Trial: Courage)

**Vices and Virtues (Jedi Trial: Courage)**

            “This could scar her for life,” Obi-wan stated, not at all happy with how things were going to turn out in the next few hours.

            Yoda hummed thoughtfully from where he sat beside Obi-wan. “Many scars, a Jedi must receive in life,” he said. “Her second, this will be.”

            Second trial, the green troll meant. But Obi-wan knew that she already had many scars. The first had been caused by the death of her father, and the second, the death of her mother. Obi-wan wasn’t entirely sure whether she was ready for another one.

            He resumed to contend. “We’ve never used such barbaric ideas such as this before, master. It is inhumane.”

            “Special, she and the Skywalker boy are,” Yoda replied. “Treat and test them accordingly, we must.”

            Through the hologram projector, he watched Tali enter a bar and order a drink. Not long afterwards, a man entered the holocam’s line of sight and sat right beside Tali. He was one of the rare Jedi spies that the Temple kept in touch with. He was Force-sensitive, but Yoda had placed a very recently created device on him that would hide his Force-presence.

            The holocam showed Tali getting her drink. She took a sip from it and then set it down. The Coruscanti spy leaned in from the side and said something incoherent to Tali. In reply, the Jedi said in a louder voice, “Go away.”

            Obi-wan smiled a bit. She was never one to enjoy the attentions of men. But in the unnamed bar on Coruscant, she looked neither angry nor inconvenienced. She just looked infinitely tired. Obi-wan didn’t like the fatigue present on her face; it made her look too vulnerable.

            He wanted nothing more than to be with her at that moment, to watch her back as she had done for him many times over, but she had to face the Trials alone. Besides, Yoda would never let any true harm come to her.

            Yet he watched as her exhaustion took its toll. She turned her head for a long moment, rubbing her face. The Coruscanti spy shifted on his seat and stretched his arm over Tali’s drink.

            To someone who didn’t know any better, it looked like he was just getting comfortable. But Obi-wan knew that he had spilled the sleeping powder from the inside of his sleeve and into Tali’s drink.

            Obi-wan didn’t dare to be impressed at the man’s subtlety, not when he knew that the spy was practically drugging his padawan.

            A second later, Tali removed her hand from her face, brought the rim of the glass up to her lips, and finished her drink. The man beside her showed no signs of relief or satisfaction. Tali raised her hand and ordered another drink.

            Obi-wan felt a brief pang of disappointment that she would bring herself so close to drunkenness. He watched her give herself a little shake as the bartender walked away.

            Not long afterwards, her head dropped down onto her crossed arms, and then she was no longer conscious.

            The Coruscanti spy left a considerable amount of payment on the counter, before standing and gathering Tali into his arms. The sight must have looked rather odd to those who were seated around them, but he remained composed and followed the plan.

            “Had a little too much to drink,” he explained. “I’m taking her back to the Temple.”

            “She’s a Jedi?” asked the bartender.

            “Jedi in training,” the spy corrected.

            With that, he turned and walked away, bringing Tali out of the holocam’s line of sight. Obi-wan sighed. There was a sense of trepidation swirling in his stomach.

            “Where is he taking her?” he asked.

            “Prepared a private room here in the Temple, Master Windu has,” Yoda said. “Able to watch her progress without her knowledge, we will be.”

* * *

 

            The Coruscanti spy chained Tali to a wall, her hands bound away from her head, and her feet placed close together, pinned to the cold cement. From behind a stretch of one-way mirror, three Jedi Masters watched the events in the room take place—and Obi-wan was feeling more anxious than was appropriate.

            Windu’s hired spy lightly slapped Tali’s cheek, saying, “Wakey wakey,” in a voice that was so different from what he had used in the bar. Obi-wan knew that he was just playing the role he was given, but it still unnerved him.

            Tali’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked several times, assessing her situation before her attention settled on her captor. “You,” she muttered.

            “That’s good. You remember me.”

            “What do you want?”

            The spy grinned. “Information.”

            “On what?”

            “The Jedi. Tell me all of their secrets, and I’ll let you go.”

            Her eyes narrowed before she released a dark chuckle. “You kidnapped the wrong person.”

            “Oh, I know who and what you are, _Tali_ ,” he retorted, making her freeze. “I also know what makes you tick.”

            She tried to downplay her fear with a smirk, but Obi-wan could feel the emotion coming off of her in spades. “And what’s that?”

            “Pain.” Slowly, the spy pulled her light saber out from his pocket, and she froze again once she realized that it was no longer in the waistband of her pants. Obi-wan could sense that she was trying to pull it into her fingers using the Force, but the chains binding her cancelled her abilities. He saw the fear settle into her features, and he had to resist the urge to look away.

            Eventually, her defensiveness kicked in. “You can try hurting me,” she snapped. “I’ll never betray the Order. Never!”

            “ _You_ wouldn’t mind getting hurt, would you? No. It has to be someone else. Someone you care about.” The spy tilted his head. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been unconscious?”

            “No, and I don’t care.”

            “Three days,” he lied. “Long enough for me to have captured any one of your Jedi friends.”

            Tali scoffed. “They can handle themselves better than I can.”

            “So sure?” Tali’s fierce expression faltered a bit, and the Coruscanti hounded on. “That Skywalker boy was easy to break—and I thought you two were the cream of the crop.”

            “You’re lying,” she said, a whisper of a breath that nearly broke Obi-wan’s composure.

            With a sick grin, the spy walked forward and placed two fingers on Tali’s forehead. Her gaze became distant, and her expression turned into one of horror. He pulled his hand back.

            “That was n-nothing but an illusion,” she weakly argued. “A filthy lie.”

            The spy shrugged. “He asked me what I wanted. I told him that I wanted blood, so I could break _you_.”

            “You’re lying!”

            “You want more proof?”

            Again, he stepped forward and forced an illusion into her mind.

            A name escaped her lips in an outraged gasp: “Dash.”

            Obi-wan grimaced. He knew how much the little engineer meant to Tali; if this didn’t break her, then Yoda should let her go. It would be proof enough of her strength and loyalty to the Order.

            Once the spy had stepped away, a tear escaped Tali’s eyes and she ducked her head to hide her anguish. “Just kill me,” she sobbed.

            “I can’t kill you, because I want information. Tell me the Jedi’s secrets.” His face morphed into one of anger, and he roared, “NOW!”

            “NO!” Tali shouted back.

            “Then watch!”

            Tali was forced to endure yet another illusion, and Obi-wan’s heart dropped when he heard her say in a voice of disbelief, “Master?”

            He could feel Mace Windu’s eyes on him, watching for any sort of change in his face. But Obi-wan hid his emotions well. Tali didn’t.

            “Why are you here, master? Why… No. No!” She strained against her bonds, and Obi-wan noticed the way the Coruscanti spy stiffened a bit when the cuffs around her wrists sliced into her skin. “STOP! PLEASE, STOP!”

            Quickly, the spy retracted his hand and instead pressed it into her chest, pushing her against the wall so she had to look at her. Her head was drooped low, and he said in a menacing voice, “Tell me where the younglings sleep, and I’ll let you go.”

            For a moment, it was as if Tali hadn’t heard the statement. Then, she raised her head and glared icily at the man. She spat at his face, and he reeled back in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that.

            Mace Windu brought his wrist up to his mouth and said into his comms unit, “That’s enough, Jared. You can leave.”

            Immediately, the Coruscanti spy’s expression flattened. Without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving Tali a chained up mess.

            “Inside, you will go,” Yoda muttered. “See if she is sane, you will.”

            Obi-wan uncrossed his arms. “Did she pass the Trial, master?”

            The troll nodded. “Passed her Trial of Courage, she has.”

            Without further ado, Obi-wan left the viewing room and moved to enter the cell where Tali was being held. At some point, he passed by Tali’s captor, who threw him a key. Obi-wan nodded in thanks but didn’t give him a second glance. Yet he could feel the spy’s gaze linger on him as he entered Tali’s cell.

            Her head was bowed and her body limp, the very picture of dead if it weren’t for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Obi-wan could feel her presence in the Force as she struggled to regain her bearings. He decided to put an end to her hardship, softly calling her name. “Tali.”

            Instantly, her eyes were on him with a look of confusion and anger. “You leave me with more illusions?” she murmured. “To haunt me throughout the night? Such cruelty has only been shown by the Sith.”

            “I am not an illusion, Tali,” Obi-wan said, reeling from the venom in her voice. “I am very much real.”

            As he took a step forward, she suddenly arched from the wall, straining against her bonds and deepening the wounds on her wrists. “Get away from me!” she yelled. “Leave!”

            Obi-wan reached out to her in the Force and enveloped her mind with his presence, soothing her with gentle strokes. As she calmed down, he strode forward and freed her from the cuffs. She fell limp against him, and Obi-wan scowled at the blood on her wrists.

            She was filled with such confusion and such anxiety; Obi-wan feared that she would fall to insanity at any given moment. So, he quickly began explaining the situation. “The visions you saw weren’t real, my padawan. Anakin and Dash are fine, and so am I. Master Yoda planned all of this as your Trial of Courage. You passed.”

            When she didn’t respond, he repeated himself. “You passed, Tali,” he said. “Three Trials down, two more to go.”

            Again, there was no reply. She stared at the wall, lips pressed into a thin line. The only sign Obi-wan received of her consciousness was the constant shifting of emotions within her. She was in dire need of meditation, yet before he could suggest it, healer droids were rushing into the room.

            Obi-wan showed them her wrists and they set to work; all the while, he wondered what was going on inside her head, for it seemed that she had cut herself off from him completely.


	17. Vices and Virtues - part 2

**Vices and Virtues – Part 2**

            Obi-wan could feel the anger coming off of her in waves, and he had only ever felt such darkness from Anakin. As soon as the healer droids finished wrapping her wrists in bandages, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently led her to the sleeping quarters—to her room, so she could be comfortable while they talked.

            He couldn’t let her retire for the night without assessing the damage that had been done to her, both physically and mentally, and perhaps even emotionally.

            She was tense during the whole walk. The barrier she had put up between her mind and his was explanation enough for Obi-wan. She was upset with him for reasons he couldn’t bring himself to understand. All he could think about was the look of pure horror that the Coruscanti spy had forced onto her face just an hour ago.

            When he closed the door to her room behind him, she immediately turned around and removed her belt, throwing it onto her bed before shedding her tabard. All the while, she kept her eyes on the floor, and Obi-wan looked at her with sad eyes.

            “Talk to me, padawan,” he said.

            “Alright,” she muttered, still not looking at him. “What about?”

            There was a sharpness to her voice that never failed to irritate Obi-wan. With a huff, he said, “Perhaps about the fact that you haven’t looked me in the eye ever since I took you away from that holding cell.”

            She froze, and for a long moment just remained silent, head bowed and face hidden; then she looked up, and Obi-wan froze at the iciness he found in her gaze. If looks could kill, he would be lying on the floor, dead.

            “Happy?” she snapped, and that made it easier for his impatience with her to return.

            “I didn’t train you to act like a child, Tali,” he said. “If you have something to say, then say it.”

            “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? After all, I am the perfect padawan. So loyal, so easy for you to manipulate. I’d do anything you wanted, even _kill_ for you, right, master?”

            Obi-wan raised his voice. “What do you want me to say?”

            “I TRUSTED YOU!” she yelled, and he was astonished by the staggering amount of darkness that was leaking out of her. “I trusted you with my life, and for so long you never gave me a reason to doubt that decision. Until now.”

            “Whatever I’ve done to earn your spite, I apologize—”

            “You left me! You knew what the _snake_ was doing to my mind, and you let it happen. You let that green _troll_ manipulate me!”

            “All of that was for _you_ , Tali. Do you actually think I enjoyed watching him do those things to you? Do you think Master Yoda enjoyed it?”

            “All of that was for a trial that I’ve already earned. Courage—how much have I given up for the sake of the galaxy? For the sake of the Order?”

            With every word she spoke, the darkness in her stretched and grew. Obi-wan had to calm her down, bring her into familiar territory, or she would be lost to the Dark Side.

            “The Order is grateful for everything you’ve done, my padawan. I am thankful, and the galaxy is in your debt. What we planned… it had to be done. To forge you into a fine Jedi—but right now, you’re slipping away. Calm yourself, Tali.”

            She was practically shaking with fury. “How do I calm myself when all I can think about is your betrayal?”

            “Think about the good in the universe: duty, honor, friendship, love—”

            “Love?” She gave a humorless chuckle. “ _Love_. How can you even _say_ that to me?”

            Obi-wan felt a drastic change in her Force-presence, from deep hatred to something akin to longing, and then there was nothing again. She had bottled in her feelings once more, but he could still see the war going on in her eyes. She turned away. Obi-wan knew that she hadn’t meant to say what she did, and now she didn’t know what to do to be able to move on.

            He did it for her. “I’ve known you all your life, Tali. You know all there is to know about me, and I you. We’d die for each other. Isn’t that the definition of love?”

            He was rephrasing what she had said to him several months before, and she knew it. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and he felt her walls lighten up the slightest bit.

            “Yoda had planned for your Trials to be different from the usual,” he cautiously continued.

            “Why?”

            “Because you’re special. You and Anakin.”

            She frowned. “So Anakin’s going to be treated the same way when Master Windu decides that he’s ready for his Trials as well?”

            “The possibility is there, yes.” Obi-wan looked at her in earnest, prodding at her mind and asking for entrance, but not pushing her. “I would never do anything within reason to hurt you, my padawan. But it had to be done. I hope you can understand that.”

            The tension in the room lifted when she nodded her head. “I know, and I understand… master.”

            Upon hearing the term that had become a form of teasing and endearment rather than respect, Obi-wan offered a smile. “Soon, you won’t have to call me that anymore.”

            “Yes, I will,” she retorted. “You’re a member of the council, and I’m not. Isn’t that how it works?”

            “Not necessarily. At least, not with me.” He threw her a wink. “It’ll be our little secret.”

            A smirk touched her lips, before it disappeared behind a subtle frown. The crease returned to her forehead, and soon she was looking down at the floor again. But she didn’t seem angry anymore.

            “They were killing you, you know,” she murmured, so low he almost didn’t hear. “In the illusion that the spy showed me, they were killing you. Slowly. Cutting away at your flesh and… and _violating_ you… You were calling for me, and I couldn’t save you.”

            Obi-wan’s gaze softened instantly. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently shook her, forcing her to meet his eyes.

            “That’s how I know that it wasn’t real. Never will be,” he said. “Because I know that you’ll always save me. You’d go through hell, just as I would do for you.”

            After a moment, she released a shaky breath and smiled, and the emotion that leaked through her walls was something that Obi-wan didn’t know how to describe. But it was enough to reassure Obi-wan that he had indeed returned her to the Light.

            “To hell and back,” she said.


	18. Anino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anino - a Filipino word meaning "shadow"

**Anino**

            It was to be Obi-wan’s first official training session with his new padawan, and he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t excited. He’d heard nothing but praise about her from the other masters, and he’d watched her fight in the Apprentice Tournament.

            Afterwards, he remembered that he’d had to argue with the other masters over her. It’d eventually been narrowed down to him and Windu. And Mace Windu had always been a very disciplined and rational man. It was easy for Obi-wan to persuade him that he’d be better paired with the Skywalker boy.

            Hence, Obi-wan stood in the main hall of the Jedi Temple, hands clasped in front of him as he patiently waited for Tali Deckard to come around. There was a look of easy detachment schooled onto his face, but inside he was beaming like a schoolchild.

            She came five minutes earlier than her expected call-time. There was a slight skip in her step and an obvious gleam in her eye.

            “Good morning,” she said.

            “Good morning, padawan,” he greeted her with a smile, knowing that she was just as excited as he was.  “I’d like to start with basics today. We’ll see how far along you are with your progress and make out where we can go from there.”

            “Yes, master.”

            Was she really going to call him that constantly? He didn’t recall it sounding so annoying during his years with Qui-gon, but he supposed it should feel different, now that he was the master instead of the apprentice.

            Pushing down his growing testiness, he gestured for her to follow him. As they made their way towards one of the vacant lecture rooms, Obi-wan remained hyperaware of his student’s presence behind him, two paces away and walking slightly to the left of him.

            This was how it was going to be until Tali was released from her apprenticeship, and that was still a very long way off. Obi-wan reminded himself that he’d have to get used to everything, sooner rather than later.

            When there was nothing more around them except for four walls and the ceiling, Obi-wan went to stand in the corner. Tali stood in front of him, looking a bit uncertain.

            “Bring your lightsaber out,” he ordered. “I’d like to have a closer look at your technique.” Everything had happened rather quickly in the Apprentice Tournament—too quickly for even him to learn much about Tali’s abilities. She was talented and strong, he knew that much. But he needed to know her points for improvement as well.

            Tali flipped her training saber on, reminding Obi-wan that they were yet to travel to Ilum and forge her a proper lightsaber. _All in due time,_ he thought. The laser bathed her face in blue. For a while, she just stood there, staring at the far wall. She held her weapon a respectable distance away from her body, and in all aspects, she seemed ready to perform.

            After a few more moments, she began moving through her forms.

            Obi-wan observed her movements, taking in the flaws and precisions of her technique; her transitions, the way she bled from one move into another, were very near perfect, but she also bent her body too much, making her flank too prone to attacks should she be battling with more than one opponent. Yet Obi-wan saw great focus, great flexibility, and even greater potential. She would grow into a fine Knight, given the right education.

            He allowed her to continue for several more minutes, waiting for the moment when the first bead of sweat appeared on her forehead. _Average stamina,_ he observed as he told her to stop. She would need more than just that, but it would come with time and experience.

            She extinguished her blade and came to stand in front of Obi-wan once more, breathing rather heavily through her nose.

            “Deep breaths, padawan.” He waited patiently for her to catch her breath before settling onto the floor, instructing her to do the same.

            “We’ll meditate now,” he said. “I want you to reach into the Force, open yourself up to it, and show me exactly what you see.”

            There was confusion on her face for only a moment before realization dawned on her. “The braid,” she murmured. Her hand, seemingly unconsciously, reached up to touch the plait that hung just behind her right ear.

            Obi-wan eyed it fondly; he remembered the days when his had still been attached, when Qui-gon had still been alive. That was when he’d felt the Force at its strongest—not because he’d been younger, but because he could feel it from two places at once. His connection with his master had heightened his sensitivity to the Force.

            Looking at Tali, he could understand the look of both wonder and apprehension on her face. Her eyes were closed, and through their bond, he could sense that her mind was deep in the Force. He took a deep breath and waited for the images to come.

            They started simple at first—various spectrums of color that came faster and faster with each transition, until he was close to being breathless. And then they became objects; some he had been accustomed to and some he had never seen before.

            Soon, Tali started showing him moving pictures—all these organisms that were impossibly yet unquestionably entwined with the Force—pictures with such detail that a lesser being would have thought all of them to be part of reality.

            Obi-wan’s lips curled into a frown when the images began losing their color. They became fuzzy and out of focus. Through the Force, he gently scolded the younger Jedi, _“Focus, padawan.”_

            He sensed her jolt of surprise and couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. His reaction to Qui-gon’s probing had been very much the same.

            “Sorry, master,” she said as she refocused her senses.

            Not long after, the images resumed flowing through their bond again. But these were different. No longer were they brimming with color and light. Obi-wan could feel something darker about them.

            Barren wastelands, murky forests, dark caves, cities covered in ash—

            The onslaught of wicked images came to an abrupt halt, and Obi-wan slowly opened his eyes, trying to remain as calm as he seemed. But in reality he was disappointed; he had expected more from her.

            “Control,” he said. “That is the true weapon of the Jedi. Without control, it would be too easy for someone as young as you to submit to the Dark Side.”

            “I’m sorry, master,” she said again. “I got… distracted.”

            “By what? We’re the only ones here.”

            She apologized again, and he fixed her with a stern look. “Try again. Try harder.”

            He kept his eyes open when she closed hers, thinking that perhaps she was focusing _too much_. (Reaching into the Force was supposed to be like slipping into still water, not like trying to break through a wall of ice.) And only then did he see the little crease between her eyebrows, giving her away.

_Tread softly, Tali,_ he advised. _Calmly. Gently. Let the Force flow through you._

            He knew that his words reached her, but the stream of dark images just kept coming. There were flickers of color here and there, but they weren’t enough to assure him.

            “Go away,” Tali muttered, almost angrily. Obi-wan eyed his apprentice with renewed curiosity.

            “Who is troubling you, padawan?” he questioned. “Open your eyes.”

            She didn’t. Instead, the crease on her forehead deepened, and she turned her head far to the side, as if she was stretching her neck. Obi-wan watched her actions with growing trepidation. There was something eerily familiar about the way she craned her neck; he was sure that he’d never seen it done before, but he was also sure that it wasn’t a habit of hers.

            He could hear the Force speaking to him, then, and it was telling him to look at her. Really look at her.

            Hastily, he retreated into the all-encompassing web of energy that was the Force. It was like seeing with brand new eyes. And with it, he was able to see the wall of Dark Energy that surrounded Tali’s Force-signature. Tendrils of white were shifting around inside her, restless as they tried to connect to the Light Side of the Force, but the Dark Energy was keeping it isolated.

            Yoda had believed that Tali was an exceptional Force-sensitive, and he had warned Obi-wan time and time again about this—that the Dark Side wanted her. Badly. It would fight for her soul, as it was fighting for her now.

            Obi-wan was quick to penetrate the Dark wall of energy. He made contact with Tali’s Force-signature, and using himself as a conduit, he linked her to the Light Side of the Force. As soon as he did so, the Dark Energy dispersed, vanishing into the shadier crevices of the universe.

            His mind was suddenly filled with color, faces contorted in laughter, sceneries clothed in light. The deluge halted after a few seconds. Obi-wan opened his eyes and took in the sight of her, wide-eyed and astonished, but also fearful of what had just transpired.

            “I didn’t know why I was having such a hard time,” she said quietly. “It is usually very easy for me to find the right things in the Force, and then…”

            She trailed off, at a loss for words. Obi-wan pitied her and reached forward to touch her wrist. “It is not your fault, Tali,” he said. “The Dark Side is fighting for you, it very badly wants you—surely you already know that.”

            “It was never so bad before. I could always block it; I could always push it away. And then just now, I was…” She took a shaky breath. “I was _trapped_.”

            “The very fact that you were able to hold out for so long should offer you comfort, padawan. You are strong. You need not worry.”

            “But what if I’m not strong enough the next time? What if it gets to me and—and makes me _hurt_ people?”

            He could see that she was very upset, and he hastened to soothe her worries. He decided to approach it how Qui-gon would have, had he been in his shoes.

            “The Dark Side will try to instill fear in your heart. It knows that fear is what will make you succumb. You must fight it, Tali. The Jedi do not know fear, only acceptance.” Then, he remembered what Qui-gon had told him, years ago, and he offered a gentle smile. “We can afford to be mindful of the future, but not at the expense of the moment. Do you understand?”

            She had calmed down somewhat, and was looking at him evenly again. But she didn’t answer; despite himself, he shifted beneath her intense gaze.

            “We’re a team now, you and I,” he added. “I trust you, as you should trust me. From now on, we can be more powerful together than we are apart. Do you understand?”

            This time, she answered, and it was with a wide, if hesitant, smile.

            “Yes, master.”


	19. Crash Landing

**Crash Landing**

            Tali was vaguely aware of a sharp pain in her shoulder. Her head was pounding, and her eyelids felt heavy. She would have closed her eyes and fallen back asleep, but the sound of a pained, masculine groan brought her back to her senses. Reminded her of what had just transpired.

            Forcing her eyes open, she saw Obi-wan sitting a few ways off to her side. The seatbelt strapped across his abdomen saved him from any permanent damage, but Tali could see just how winded he was. Her own groan of pain streamed out of her throat when she tried to move; her neck felt like it had taken a beating from a giant.

            “Easy,” Obi-wan muttered. Slowly, he got out of his seat and leaned over the control panel, looking out the windscreen. “There’s Dooku’s sailer. He must have crash landed as well… Good shooting, Tali.”

            Tali only grunted in response, still struggling to move her neck. She knew they had to apprehend the Count, but damn if the Force wasn’t making it hard for her. She clumsily managed to unlock the seatbelt mechanism and pull herself out of her seat, gripping the armrest tightly when the world began spinning in front her. Her legs threatened to fall out from beneath her, but Obi-wan was there to keep her steady.

            “I must have hit my head,” she said, though it came out as something more like, “Mus’ve hit m’ head.”

            A light, weary chuckle escaped Obi-wan. “Can you walk?”

            “Have to.” She let go of the armrest and transferred her grip onto her master, walking beside him with heavy feet. “Dooku’s out there.”

            “There are tracks. I can follow him on my own. You should stay. Rest.”

            She shook her head. “M’ not leaving you t’fight him alone.”

            “You’d be doing me more harm than good by coming with me, my padawan,” he retorted. “I can’t take care of you and fight him at the same time.”

            Tali felt the weight of his words settle on her chest, stopping her just as Obi-wan placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from going out of the ship. “Stay here, Tali,” he said. “That’s an order.”

            Carefully, he maneuvered her back onto the co-pilot’s seat. All the while, Tali barely felt anything – a testament as to how hard she really hit her head. She looked up at Obi-wan with bleary eyes and pointed at the side of her head. “If you need me, just give me a call.”

            He just smiled. She could see the concern in his eyes, but also the overlying sense of duty. He had to defeat Dooku. She expected nothing else, and she wished nothing more than to be there with him, to help him, but he was right: she would do him more harm than good. So from her seat in the cockpit, she watched as he exited the ship and started for Dooku’s trail, the bay doors closing behind him.

            They had crash landed on a desert planet much like Tatooine, but they were much too far from the Outer Rim for them to have found themselves on Anakin’s home-planet. The sand there was a harsh yellow, almost white, while Tali was staring out at a terrain of red waste.

            Obi-wan entered her line of sight as he came to inspect the remains of Dooku’s solar sailer. That was where the trail began. And Tali watched on as he followed the trail to the mouth of a nearby cave. By then, he had become a large speck of brown robes in the distance. Tali’s heart clenched when he stepped into the large cavern, disappearing from her sight completely.

            She felt him, very faintly, through their Bond. He had muted his Force-signature somewhat so that Dooku wouldn’t be able to sense him coming. With a deep sigh, Tali closed her eyes and latched onto him, making sure to quiet her feelings so as to not give away the whereabouts of her master. She just needed to make sure that he was alright.

            The planet’s natural heat was seeping into the ship, making for a cozy atmosphere. Obi-wan’s presence was a constant thrumming in her mind – his heartbeat, his breathing. Before long, Tali’s senses gave out, and she fell asleep.

* * *

 

            Her slumber was interrupted by an abrupt surge of emotion from her master’s Force-signature; pain, fear, alarm, and an overall dread that Tali so rarely felt from Obi-wan. Her eyelids flew open and she started out of her seat, immediately looking to the cave where he had disappeared into. She could make out the vague outlines of smoke and dust coming from the mouth, confirming her suspicions: her master was in danger.

            She snatched the radio from the control panel and prayed that the crash hadn’t destroyed the transmitters within the ship. Her head was feeling a bit better by then. With her finger on the button, she spoke into the device, “Mayday, mayday, this is a distress signal from padawan Tali Deckard. Our ship has crash landed somewhere within the Vanqor system. Requesting immediate back-up. Does anyone copy?”

            Several seconds passed, and no response came.

            “ _Mayday, mayday,_ this is padawan Tali Deckard, requesting immediate back-up. Does anyone copy?”

            Again, nothing. Nothing but static. She slammed the radio back onto the control panel and struggled to think. She vaguely remembered Obi-wan speaking urgently with Mace Windu during their pursuit of the Count. She had been manning the laser cannon then, so she hadn’t been able to pick up much of their conversation. But Mace was smart. He would know something was wrong when no update came from Obi-wan, even more so when not even a distress signal reached them. He’d assume that they had crashed. He _had_ to.

            Ignoring the painful throbbing at the back of her head, Tali forced herself onto her feet and hobbled out of the ship.

            The air was still and warm. Dooku’s tracks remained untouched on the sand, accompanied by Obi-wan’s. Tali followed the trail back to Dooku’s sailer, where she was startled to find an alarming amount of footprints. No longer just Dooku’s or Obi-wan’s anymore. Pirates had come to salvage the Count’s solar sailer, and Tali realized just how careless she had been, falling asleep while her master was out apprehending a Sith Lord, and on an _unknown planet_ no less.

            She shook herself, made a silent promise to do better.

            Their ship’s engines were all but destroyed after the crash. Tali held out for hope that the camouflage settings would still work, but it was in vain. She just hoped that the pirates would think better of trying to enter and salvage a Jedi ship—

_“Tali.”_

            Her eyes darted to the entrance to the cave. _“Master?”_

_“Tali, Dooku has trapped me down here. I can’t see… He’s on his way back to the surface now.”_

            Sensing the urgency in his voice, Tali quickly exited the ship and ran to the mouth of the cave, pushed herself up against one of its outer walls, hoping to surprise the Count. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had to force herself to calm down.

_“Prepare yourself, padawan.”_

            He could say no more. Tali heard footsteps echoing from within the cave. She grasped her lightsaber tightly in her hand, body tense as she took a peek from out of the side of the cave—

            There was the sound of a lightsaber being activated. Tali acted on instinct and activated her own. She was barely able to block the attack of Dooku, who had been aiming for her neck. She stared down at the red laser of his blade, her gaze trailing upwards to see the smug satisfaction on his weathered face.

            “So this is Obi-wan’s young apprentice,” he said. “We finally meet.”

            “I can’t say it’s a pleasure.” With a grunt, Tali pushed the red laser away from her face and quickly laid down blow after blow. Dooku caught them all with ease. Frustration bubbled up inside her; she had to force it down.

            When they had broken away from each other, Dooku regarded her with a sneer, revealing yellowed teeth. “It’s a shame, really,” he told her. “I thought the Pride of the Temple would offer much more of a challenge.”

            She narrowed her eyes at him. “Sorry to disappoint.” She knew he was just trying to get a rise out of her, but between the throbbing in her head and Obi-wan’s growing sense of urgency, it was difficult to stay calm.

            In a desperate attempt to distract the Count, she levitated a hunk of debris from the remnants of his sailer and chucked it at him with all the Force-strength she could muster. It was coming at him from behind. He shouldn’t have been able to see it.

            But then it stopped in midair, and then Dooku was on her again. Giving her harsh blows that seemed to come from all directions. He was pushing her back, making her struggle with her footing. She tried to make a swipe for his wrist, hoping to cut it off, but he parried her lightsaber away and landed a deep cut on her shoulder.

            In that brief moment of pain, Dooku managed to overpower her. He threw his hand out and an unseen force knocked into her stomach. The air was knocked out of her lungs and she flew backwards, into darkness, landed on something rough and hard.

_“Tali?”_

            “I can’t kill you yet,” said Dooku. “The Sith Lord has plans for you. But I sincerely hope we meet again.”

            He waved his hand again, and the mouth of the cave collapsed in on itself, trapping Tali in darkness.

_“Tali, answer me.”_

            She couldn’t lose consciousness. Not again. She had to find Obi-wan. She had to get them out. _“I failed, master. Dooku got away.”_

            Gingerly, she picked herself up off the ground and tried to see past the darkness. There didn’t seem to be any sheer-drops or fissures. Staying in tune with the Force, she walked forward, following her master’s Force-signature.

_“You’re hurt,”_ he remarked.

_“So are you.”_ Tali noticed that he had calmed down somewhat. His Force-presence wasn’t emanating the same sense of urgency as before, but there was a lingering pain, and Tali knew that the Count hadn’t left her master uninjured. _“Where are you, master?”_

_“There should be a pit a few ways away from where you are. It’ll be in front of you, so be careful.”_

            Tali continued onwards with more caution, watching her step. The darkness seemed to be getting thicker the deeper she went, less natural and more suffocating. She squeezed her lightsaber and shook herself.

_“Keep your head, padawan… There.”_

            She thought that Obi-wan said that because she’d finally grounded herself again, but then she realized that her foot was hanging in midair in front of her. There was nothing for her to step on. This must have been the pit Obi-wan had been talking about.

            Kneeling down, she peered into the darkness and saw him lying on the ground. His leg was trapped beneath a large piece of rock. He didn’t seem to be in much pain, though, so the rock hadn’t crushed his leg completely.

            He glanced upwards, and his eyes glittered like sapphires in the darkness. “A little help?”

            She carefully made her way down the slope, grimacing at just how deep the pit actually was. If she hadn’t been more careful…

            Her attention was caught by an uncharacteristically high pile of boulders that sat at one corner of the pit. And beneath the rocks, she saw something else. Something that was moving, _breathing_.

            “What _is_ that?” she asked as she knelt by Obi-wan’s leg, trying to decipher a way she could remove the rock without offering him much pain.

            “A Gundark,” he said. “The mother of all Gundarks, to be more precise.”

            Tali grinned at the underlying pride in his voice. “Congratulations.”

            “She’s not dead yet, Tali.”

            “We should probably find a way out of here before she wakes up, huh?”

            “Probably.”

            The rock was heavier than it looked, and the weight of it took its toll on her mind. She cautiously lifted it off of Obi-wan’s leg, grimacing when she saw just how battered his skin was.

            “Let me help,” Obi-wan said through gritted teeth.

            He linked his mind with hers. Together, they carried the rock far away from them, dropping it unceremoniously onto the ground.

            Tali was able to register a distinct crack. Fissures formed on the cave floor, and green fumes began seeping through from beneath.

            Obi-wan took the brunt of the first wave; a large plume exploded onto his face and he fell back onto the ground, hacking and coughing into his hand. “T-Toxic… gas,” he sputtered.

            “There must have been a trapped pocket under there!” Tali wrapped her arm around his midsection and brought him up, placing his arm around her shoulders so she could support them both.

            “You have to help me here, master,” she said, eyeing the height of the pit. “One, two, three—”

            Using the Force, they somehow managed to stagger out of the pit. In her breathlessness, Tali couldn’t help but to gasp. The fumes entered her nostrils, and her vision dimmed. “No…”

            She gritted her teeth and got Obi-wan’s arm around her shoulders again, but his feet barely moved. She practically dragged him to the mouth of the cave, which was still closed off. She feebly attempted to pull the rocks out, starting from the bottom, but it was no use.

            Tears gathered in her eyes. Her legs finally gave out underneath her and she fell beside Obi-wan, where he lay gasping for breath. “Master…” Her voice came out raspy, barely there.

            Suddenly, there was a burst of light. The boulders that had dropped them were blown away, sailing over their heads. Tali managed enough strength to tilt her head and see if Obi-wan was okay, if his eyes were still open, before her vision finally dimmed and she slipped into unconsciousness.


	20. Would it be a sin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uber long chapter. This was originally three parts, but I decided to squeeze it all into one for less hassle.
> 
> P.S.  
> honestly, who doesn't love this song?
> 
> P.P.S.  
> sentences/paragraphs inside parentheses are stuff from Obi-wan's POV. just so y'all don't get confused.

**Would it be a sin?**

            As Tali and Obi-wan made their way through the streets of Coruscant, the newly Knighted Jedi was practically buzzing with energy. Her fingers tingled and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

            “Tone it down, Tali,” Obi-wan suddenly said.

            She whipped her head around, attention turning from the festivities to her former master. “What?”

            “You’re glowing with the Force, young one,” he explained. “It’s absolutely splendid, but the people can undoubtedly feel it. Center yourself.”

            Chastised, she bowed her head and closed her eyes, taking a moment to calm herself down, before she looked at him again. “Sorry, mas—I mean…”

            “Obi-wan.”

            “Sorry, Obi-wan.” The name without the word _master_ coming before it, a title she had always used, sounded odd to her ears; tasted strange on her tongue… but not in a particularly bad way.

            (If she had been focusing, she’d have noticed the goose bumps that erupted on the skin of his neck when she said his name.)

            “Don’t apologize. It’s a good thing that you’re so strong in the Force. Just be more careful, alright?” He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and his warmth invaded the cloth of her robes and sent chills down her spine. “You’re a Knight now. Younger Jedi will start looking up to you.”

            _They shouldn’t,_ Tali thought.

            “ _Younger_ Jedi,” she repeated, a hint of a smile on her face. “You make it sound like I’m one of you Masters or something.”

            He shrugged. “Well, you did defeat the Sith—”

            “ _Helped_ defeat the Sith.”

            “—Soon, Initiates will be trying to win you over as their master!”

            Tali covered her face with her hands and laughed. The idea seemed so farfetched: her gaining a Padawan. But it was entirely possible, she supposed… and even a bit welcomed. She would be able to pass on Obi-wan’s teachings, as well as have a constant companion. After all, she wasn’t going to be following Obi-wan around so much anymore.

            Just like that, her glowing demeanor changed into one of sorrow.

            Obi-wan must have noticed it. Yoda might have cut off her Padawan braid, but her connection with him was stronger than it ever was, now that neither of them had to worry about war or suffering. Unfortunately, it was this bond that resulted in the halt of Obi-wan and, ultimately, hers.

            “He’s going to be fine, Tali,” he said.

            She frowned in confusion. “Who?”

            “Anakin. I know you’re worried about him, about what he almost did. But Mace is taking care of him. He loves him, I think, as a father loves his son.”

            Oh, if only that could describe the way Tali felt about Obi-wan, but hers ran deeper, stretched farther, than anything a parent could feel for his child. She wanted things from him, things that weren’t appropriate, things she knew he would never willingly give her.

            But if that was what he thought her reason was for feeling the way she felt, then so be it. It was better for her; easier for her to continue with her façade.

            (If only she knew how her despondency affected him—then, perhaps, she would understand.)

            “I cut off his arm,” she pointed out simply.

            “No, Count Dooku cut off his arm. You simply cut off an appendage that acted as his arm.” At the look of annoyance that crossed her features, Obi-wan’s gaze softened. “He felt no pain for it. If anything, I think he felt relieved.”

            “How so?”

            “You stopped him from hurting his Master. Had he continued down the path that Palpatine set for him… Well, I think you and I would be part of the Force by now.”

            She raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing more. Instead, she retreated into her thoughts.

            What would have happened if she hadn’t followed her instincts? If she had hesitated for a second longer? Would Anakin really have gotten too far along into the Dark Side that he’d have killed her and Obi-wan? She couldn’t bear to think about it, but the probability of it all was too great. Anakin had always been an exceptionally strong Jedi, but he was also closer to the Dark Side than she would have liked. It was worrying.

            (There was a frown on her face, the kind that he had never liked to see.)

            Suddenly, Obi-wan was tugging on her sleeve. “I won’t have you thinking so deeply. Not today. I may not be your master anymore, but I’m still your superior.”

            Amusement bubbled in Tali’s stomach at the demanding tone that had entered his voice. “And what would you have me do,” she said, “as my superior?”

            “I would have you enjoy yourself.” He turned and pointed to a small cluster of beings a few feet away from them. “They’ll help you with that.”

            A smile inched up her face once she recognized the face of Dashnier, Maris, and Dashnier’s buddy James.

            At the same moment, Dash turned her head and saw her standing there. She waved, calling, “Tali!”

            With some reluctance, Tali left Obi-wan’s side and weaved past the masses in order to get to her friends. A familiar presence touched her mind, before she heard Obi-wan’s voice: _“Remember what I said about drinking?”_

            She laughed. _“Not too much is all right; not at all is a crime.”_

            She felt rather than heard his chuckling in her head, and then she was caught in a group hug with Dash and the others.

            “Knight of the Republic, huh?” Dash said, to which Maris grinned and said, “About time!”

            Tali threw her a weak glare and huffed. “Oh, it’s not my fault your master was so loose with you.”

            “ _Loose_? He barely let me go to the fresher without constantly poking at my mind!”

            James, laughed and teased, “Maybe he was afraid of what you could’ve been doing in there!”

            Dash guffawed, Maris turned a deep red, and Tali shook her head, a small smile touching her lips. It was just like the engineers to make inappropriate jokes. Their shenanigans had been the main reason why Yoda had disapproved of their friendship. He separated Tali and Maris from them—or tried to, at least.

            “You got any drinks in you yet?” Dash asked.

            “No.” Tali looked to Maris questioningly. “You?”

            “A couple.” Tali raised an eyebrow, and the older Jedi rolled her eyes. “Alright, _one_. But I’m up for another.”

            Dash gestured to her engineering buddy. “James, lead the way.”

            (He watched her walk away with a young man, with Dash and Maris in tow, and he thought that perhaps their separation was for the best.)

* * *

            Several hours later, when the sun had set, Tali found herself in the middle of a large crowd, her side tightly pressed against James’ as they watched the parade go by. Dash and Maris were somewhere behind them.

            Some participants had dressed themselves in robes very similar to the Jedi’s; some had dressed in the black clothing of the Sith. They carried what looked to be light sabers, but Tali relaxed when it became obvious that they were merely plastic.

            Parade floats were designed to very closely resemble star ships, or any form of space transportation, really.

            “All they need are engines and some decent pilots and they’re good to go,” Tali joked.

            “Those would never work,” James retorted. “They’re too bulky. Not to mention that the forward mandibles are crap.”

            Tali laughed.

            (He watched from afar as the man muttered something into her ear, and the mirth that appeared on her face was something only he had owned before. It was a dagger to his heart.)

            When the parade had reached its end, and the people began dispersing, Tali felt someone bump into her from behind. It surprised her so much that she wasn’t able to regain her balance. The two of them tumbled onto the floor, where she was soon able to register Dash’s unkempt raven hair.

            “Dash,” Tali groaned in exasperation. Above her, James was hiding a smile behind his hand.

            “Hello, friend!” replied the short engineer. “How’s ya doing?”

            “You’re drunk.” Grunting, Tali pushed her off and got to her feet, while James helped Dash off of the ground. There was the sound of shuffling feet before Maris burst out of the crowd, wide-eyed and panting.

            She stared at Dash. “There you are!”

            “Here I am,” Dash said with a hiccup.

            “Where did you guys come from?” Tali questioned. “I thought you were just behind us while the parade was going on.”

            “We were,” Maris grunted; Dash had tried walking over to her but tripped over her own feet, falling into the female Jedi’s waiting arms. “There were guys handing out alcohol. Dash had one too many.”

            “I had three!” Dash argued.

            “Right. Three too many.” Maris rolled her eyes. “Bottom line is: she has to go home, and I don’t know where that is.”

            James stepped up. “I’ll go with you.”

            Maris raised an eyebrow, and Tali felt the wariness emanating from her Force-signature. Of course she’d think twice about it. Why would a man know where Dash’s house was?

            “It’s okay, Maris,” Tali said. “They’re together. Sort of.”

            The older Jedi blinked in surprise. “Really?”

            Blushing, James scratched the back of his head and looked down at his feet. “Well, uh, she… she hasn’t really decided to… _label_ it yet, but… yeah.”

            Tali smirked at his poor response, but it was enough. Maris loosened up and handed Dash over to him. “Alright,” she said. “But you’re carrying her.”

            “Got it.”

            The two of them began walking away. After a few steps, Maris looked over her shoulder and noticed that one of them wasn’t moving from her spot. “Tali, you coming?”

            Tali shook her head. “I think I’ll stay for a while longer. Enjoy the views and all,” she easily lied.

            “Okay.” Maris waved at her one last time. “Congratulations, anyway.”

            “Yeah, congratulations, Tali!” James said.

            “Congrats!” Dash added in a drunken mumble, slapping James’ arm before pointing up at the night sky. “Did you know that those specks up there are actually light sabers?”

            James, deciding to humor her, said, “Not at all.”

            They got too far away for Tali to hear anything else that was said. She smiled. James would be good for Dash. He cared about her, and she needed someone to care for her, given that she barely saw her parents anymore.

            But then… Who was going to care for Tali?

            She shook the thought out of her head, banishing it as quickly as it had come. Jedi weren’t supposed to think like that. Jedi were stronger than other beings; they lived in solitude and found refuge in their kin and in the Force.

            _There is no emotion, there is peace._

            Taking a deep breath, she turned and made her way back to the Jedi Temple. The streets were still bustling with people, and it would stay like that for the nights to come. But even with the war over, she would still be lucky to have more than two nights off.

            As she was only a block or two away from the temple, she felt a brief spark of anger in the Force, coming from an all too familiar Force-signature that was very close by.

            She scanned the crowd for a second before she found him: Obi-wan. Beside him, practically hanging from his shoulder was a woman with long auburn locks. Her smile spoke of danger.

            Tali felt a pang of jealously. She approached the two and softly called, “Obi-wan?”

            His eyes shot up, and the relief was evident on his face. “Tali!”

            ( _Thank the gods,_ he thought.)

            “Who’s she?” the stranger-woman said. The aversion was clear by the way she looked at Tali, but so was the lust by the way she looked at Obi-wan. Tali knew that she had to separate them as quickly as possible.

            “A very close friend,” Obi-wan replied. “Sadly, she’s come to pick me up and walk me back to the temple.”

            “The night’s still young,” the woman retorted plainly. “There’s still some time for… a bit of fun.”

            She had murmured the last bit near his ear, and by that time, Tali was barely keeping herself in check. She stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Obi-wan’s midsection, using her other hand to not so gently push the other woman away.

            “Sorry, but we’ve been summoned by Yoda,” she lied. “The Grand Master of the Jedi? Surely you know him. He’s the most powerful of us all. And he wouldn’t be too happy if we were late for the meeting.”

            “No, he wouldn’t,” Obi-wan hastily added.

            “There are plenty of men out there anyway. Perhaps they’ll be more than willing to go home with you, unlike other, more respectable people.”

            (He barely saw this side of her, and so he had to contain his warring emotions. But there was something darkly glorious about her when she was being feisty.)

            The woman’s nostrils flared; her lips were pursed tightly in anger. But she said nothing. Of course she was afraid of Yoda. Everyone was. Tali threw her one final condescending smile before she whirled around and pulled Obi-wan away from the scene.

            Only when the temple was in sight did she let go of his hand. But she didn’t let up her fast pace, and the scowl remained on her lips.

            “Are we really being summoned by Yoda?” Obi-wan asked slowly.

            “No.”

            “Then where are we going?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Tali…”

            Why did he have to say her name like that? Before she knew it, she had stopped walking and was staring at him with hard eyes. His expression was one of surprise and confusion.

            “What’s wrong?” he said.

            She wanted him to stop talking. His voice was distracting her, keeping her from centering herself because all she could think of was how she didn’t hold anything over him anymore. She wasn’t one of his pupils. She wasn’t his Padawan. Soon, she wouldn’t even be his friend anymore, if Mace and Yoda had anything to say about it.

            (Anyone Force-sensitive standing even a few feet away from them would be able to feel the tornado of emotions swirling within her: doubt, sadness, but mostly nostalgia. Obi-wan was only relieved that the Dark Side of the Force wasn’t anywhere near her.)

            The next thing she knew, Obi-wan was in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down, young one,” he said soothingly, and just like that, she felt her hands stop shaking.

            Only he was capable of doing that to her. What if, in the future, something happened that made her so inconsolable, and he would try to calm her down, but would fail, because their bond was no longer there? Because one of them, or both of them, had forgotten about the other?

            “I need you,” she said.

            The words had left her lips before she even knew what she was saying. It was barely a whisper, but it was enough for him.

            He pulled back and looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

            (Had he heard that correctly? He didn’t dare hope, didn’t bare build up a tower of cards that would fall the moment she began backtracking; began explaining herself.)

            She struggled to regain her composure. After some stuttering, she caught herself from a free-fall and said, “I need to talk to you.”

            What she had said before was a slip of the tongue, a result of the alcohol—or that was the excuse that she was willing to use.

            “Of course,” he replied. “You know, just because I’m no longer your master doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped caring about you.”

_You won’t be saying that three years from now,_ she thought. “I know.”

            “What do you need to talk about?”

            “Let’s talk somewhere more private. It’s about something personal.”

            He smiled softly and nodded. It was he, after all, who had first explained the subject of spies to her. Personal matters of the Jedi, no matter how unrelated they were to politics, had to be kept away from prying ears.

            (It was the first time that he had witnessed her use his teachings without him actually prescribing them to her. It was a maddeningly joyous moment for him.)

            Wordlessly, she led them into the temple and to the sleeping quarters. Her mind chased for words she could say. How could she possibly explain to him something that she barely understood herself?

* * *

            They were standing in Obi-wan’s room, because Tali didn’t want to bring him into hers and make him uncomfortable, so she took the blunt of the discomfort onto herself.

            (He wanted nothing more than to feel awkward—because his former Padawan was in _his_ room, _alone_ with him—but to feel it would be a lie. He enjoyed her presence, and only then did he realize that a blessing could be a sin at the same time.)

            Obi-wan raised an eyebrow. “Do you want some water?”

            “No. No, thank you.” That was a bad move, considering that her lips were chapped and her mouth felt as dry as the deserts of Tatooine. Wishing to reaffirm herself, she gestured to the bed and said, “You may sit if you wish. This will be… a rather long talk.”

            Almost hesitantly, he crossed the room and took a seat on the side of his bed, crossing his arms and looking at her expectantly. “You’ve delayed long enough, don’t you think, Tali?” There was some small amount of mirth in his voice, not enough to comfort her. “What’s this about?”

            Eyes trained on the ground and fingers fumbling behind her, she said, “Do you recall when, almost a year ago now, I asked you why the Jedi aren’t allowed to feel love?”

            ( _How could I forget?_ he wanted to say.)

            “Yes.”

            “And you questioned as to why I would ask such a thing, and if I held any feelings for Anakin.”

            “Yes.”

            (He almost laughed. It was obvious now that she and Anakin were just very, very close friends.)

            “With how much time has passed, I’m now quite positive that I do feel love, but not for Anakin.” Tali licked her lips. Her stomach was coiled in anxiety. “It’s for another Jedi, who I’ve known for most of my life. A respectable Jedi.” She licked her lips again, preparing herself for the many possible reactions that her statement could produce. “And… That Jedi is you, Obi-wan.”

            He was quiet for a long while, expression unreadable. Tali was certain that this was worse than having him yell at her in outrage or disappointment.

            (It had to be a joke. Some sort of cruel joke that someone had plotted out to remind him what he could never have. Yet she was still there, not laughing, but with a sort of pleading look in her eyes.)

            Desperate to fill the silence, she began explaining herself. “I tried to hold it off, make it go away somehow. Nothing ever worked. When I saw you with other women, it hurt. When we were separated for long periods of time, it hurt. And I realized that… I needed you. I still do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop needing you.”

            Her voice became thick with emotion, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat. “I tried asking for help, but they said that nothing could be done. That I was too far off.”

            His head shot up. “You’ve told someone?”

            “No one that I don’t trust.”

            “That’s… That’s good.”

            (He didn’t want word to spread. Far be it for her to be cast out of the Order, and from such a bright future, because of _him_.)

            He blinked, and looked as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. Whether it was a good dream or some kind of nightmare, Tali didn’t know, but she deeply hoped that it was the former.

            “And how long have you felt this way?” he asked.

            “I can’t be sure. It happened slowly, like I was falling asleep…” She shook her head as a smile inched up her lips. “But I’ve never been more sure about something in my entire life.”

            (Relief poured into him and healed his wounds, a miracle that only she could accomplish.)

            She continued, “And I’m telling you this because I can’t keep it a secret anymore. It’s been killing me inside… You’re the drug I can’t have, Obi-wan.”

            When he opened his mouth, her gut sank and dread washed over her. Oh, but how she continued to hope, and to pray.

            “Tali, I… I’m flattered,” he said. (Truly, more than that.) “But as I’m sure you know, the Code restricts any kind of affair between two Jedi. It’s not the Jedi way.”

            “I know… I came here to tell you something else as well.” Her heart was pounding against her ribcage; her fingers shook like leaves. But she had to say it. “I’ve felt this way for… well, a while now. My feelings run quite deeply. They will be difficult to banish, I know… but you must know that one word from you will silence me forever.”

            (He was stunned into muteness. What could he say?)

            Her gaze turned pleading again. “I just… I need to know,” she said. “Hanging onto every word you say, following you around, constantly trying to figure out what I want to say to you—I can’t keep doing that, especially not now that I’ve been Knighted. I love you, but I can’t let myself be some lost pup, and I won’t let you be my life support. We… _You_ deserve better.”

            (Some part of him wanted himself to be her life support. He wanted to be important in her eyes, something she could cling to when her world was falling apart. And they did deserve better than being kept apart. He just couldn’t be sure whether being together was for better or for worse… But he was willing to try.)

            Obi-wan sighed. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me, to have earned such loyalty and devotion from someone like you. The years we spent together as Padawan and Master were the best years of my life. And…”

            Despite her previous speech, Tali found herself hanging onto every word, his voice. It was tedious and liberating at the same time.

            (At the back of his mind, he could feel the Force speaking to him; it might as well have been speaking in another language. He couldn’t understand a thing. But if there was one thing being a Jedi had taught him, it was that he could always trust his gut.)

            Suddenly, she was blinded by an onslaught of emotions. Anger, hurt, sadness, desperation, anxiety, excitement, happiness, and a handful of others that she couldn’t even begin to describe.

            When her senses returned to her, she felt tears in her eyes, and she hurried to regain her composure. Obi-wan was staring at her with such devotion in his eyes. And that moment, she knew that she was lost, never to be redeemed.

            “I love you, Tali Deckard,” he finished. “More than I should, but it is something that cannot be undone. You’ve bewitched me, and I find myself happy to become whatever you want me to be.”

            Joy. It was all she could feel at that moment. Utter joy. But with it came a sprinkle of disbelief. For so long, she had thought that her affections were entirely unrequited. How could she have been so wrong?

            (He was overcome with the desire to have her close. The emotional intimacy had passed; it was time for the physical, so he acted accordingly. Was that so wrong, to act on his feelings?)

            And then she was in his arms, enveloped in such warmth and solidity—the very being who had always been her beacon of light and hope. She buried her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes; searched the Force for any sign of Darkness, and there was none.

            (All was as it should be.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wise men say only fools rush in,  
> But I can't help falling in love with you.  
> Shall I stay?  
> Would it be a sin  
> If I can't help falling in love with you?


	21. Swan Song

**Swan Song**

            There was a strong, rolling disturbance in the Force, the Dark Side and the Light clashing against each other so strongly that Tali couldn’t help the tremors that racked her body. And Anakin’s familiar presence was in the center of it all; she could sense it. She didn’t know where her master was, but she knew that something had to be done.

            Steeling her gut and unclasping her light saber from her belt, she entered one of the Temple’s jets and rode it in the direction of the Senate Building.

            The closer she got, the more apparent it became that something was wrong. She stopped the jet beside an open window by one of the empty meeting rooms. As she exited the vehicle, the sound of yelling reached her ears and she was startled into action.

            At the window across the room, Mace Windu stood on the frame, purple light saber pointed at Chancellor Palpatine, who cowered beneath him in the corner. The dark figure of Anakin stood just a few ways away from the scene, his shoulders trembling and his hands clenched into fists.

            Tali assessed the situation with wide eyes. Windu’s Force-presence was bathed in light, as it always was, but it was the first time Tali had ever seen Palpatine’s Force-signature, and she knew that it shouldn’t have been swirling in darkness. Anakin’s was a mixture of both; Tali quickly caught on to what was happening, but she remained rooted to the spot for a while, mind working on overdrive to figure out what she could do.

            “The oppression of the Sith will never return,” Windu stated. “You have lost.”

            “No,” Palpatine spat. “No, no, YOU WILL DIE!” In a surge of Dark Energy, he summoned Force-lightning and directed it at Mace Windu. It was the first time Tali had seen someone use such a power.

            Master WIndu blocked the lightning using his light saber, with no small amount of effort.

            “He is a traitor!” said Palpatine, glancing at Anakin.

            “ _He_ is the traitor!” Windu’s retort trailed off into a grunt and yell of exertion as he kept pushing against the power of the Sith Lord.

            “Anakin,” the Chancellor said, his voice growing strained. “I have the power to save the one you love.”

            Tali watched Anakin seize up upon hearing those words. Slowly, the tendrils of Darkness grew thicker and longer around him.

            “Anakin!” she yelled as she finally jogged into the room, effectively pulling his attention away from the Sith’s influence.

            His eyes widened. “Tali,” he said. “You can’t be here.”

            “Tali!” Palpatine suddenly interjected. “Tali, yes. You’ll help me, won’t you? Your mother… wanted this. Wanted me to rule the Senate. Won’t you do this for her?”

            It was difficult to ignore his words, especially when he mentioned her mother. But she reached into the Force and drew strength from Master Windu’s unwavering faith in the Light. When she spoke, her words were directed to Anakin. “Don’t listen to him, Ani. We don’t need him. I can help you save Padme. Obi-wan can help, _Yoda_ can help.”

            He shook his head and scowled. “They don’t care about her. They’d let her die as long as the Republic remains standing.”

            “Then it’s me and you,” she insisted. “We’re the cream of the crop, remember? We can do anything.”

            Palpatine’s groans of pain increased in volume as his lightning began arching back into him. “Don’t let him kill me,” he begged. “I… I can’t hold on any longer. T-too weak. Please…”

            Anakin turned back to him. Tali could see the pity rising in his eyes, the anguish, but she could also sense the growing Darkness in Palpatine. He wasn’t growing weak. Not really. He wanted Anakin to turn.

            “Anakin, he’s evil!” Tali pushed. “Think of Padme, your _baby_. What would they want you to do?”

            Again, he shook his head. “I can’t let her die. I can’t lose her.”

            Palpatine’s Force-lightning had stopped. He was left lying limp on the window frame, skin pale and taut, eyes bulging. “Anakin, help me,” he pleaded, and his voice was so hoarse, so strained, that Tali was almost tempted to come to his aid. Master Windu’s voice stopped her.

            “I am going to end this once and for all,” he said with utter surety.

            Anakin stepped away from Tali and glared at Mace. “You can’t. He must stand trial.”

            “He has control over the Senate and the Courts! He’s too dangerous to be kept alive.”

            Palpatine hounded at Anakin’s moment of weakness. “I’m too weak… Don’t kill me. Please.”

            “It’s not the Jedi way,” Anakin told Mace, stepping forward so that he stood just beside him. “He must live.”

            Windu shook his head, and the resolve in his eyes only hardened.

            Anakin growled. “I need him!”

            As the Chancellor continued begging and groaning, Mace Windu raised his light saber, the beginnings of a feral snarl on his lips. Anakin yelled in defiance and reached into his robes. Tali felt a ripple in the Force, and a sense of momentousness seized her.

            Quickly, she activated his light saber and intercepted Anakin’s, pushing him back.

            Surprise crossed his face, and Tali took her chance. Knowing that he wouldn’t feel any pain, and that the damage could be repared, she cut off his robotic arm. The appendage fell to the floor, along with his light saber. Tali rushed forward and knocked him out with the butt of her light saber.

            The Dark Side of the Force receded from his aura, and she felt Palpatine’s signature grow weaker as his secondary source of power faded from existence.

            The Sith Lord had summoned Force-lightning again, but it was considerably weaker than before. Unfortunately, so was Master Windu, but he was still strong enough to stop the lightning with his light saber. With a grunt, he said, “Help me, Tali.”

            As she was raising her free hand to help manipulate the lightning, she heard Palpatine appeal to her. “I can bring your parents back.”

            She growled. “My mother was cremated upon her death. My father’s body was never found.”

            “All the more easier for me. New bodies for the both of them… better bodies… untouched by the ravages of time.”

            “What you’re saying is impossible.” As she spoke, she started the tedious process of cancelling his Force-lightning. Her hands shook from the exertion, but it was working. The tendrils of lightning thinned, lost their bite.

            A rush of air left the Sith’s mouth. “I can save him. I can save your beloved master,” he said. “He can be yours, if you just stop fighting me.”

            His words were like poison. They crept under her skin and threatened to burn her flesh until there was nothing left of her.

            “Tali,” Mace warned.

            She looked into Palpatine’s yellow eyes—their true form, now that he had returned to his home in the Dark Side. They reminded her of a snake. Silver tongue. Only trusted by fools.

            Pursing her lips, she focused her attention on completely cancelling his Force-lightning.

            He kept appealing to her as she worked, telling her that anything was possible with the aid of the Dark Side. Bringing people back from the dead, creating an entire _planet_ , taking away a person’s emotions of manipulating them. His desperation grew with each passing second.

            The time came when his lightning was completely gone. Tali kept her hand up and held his powers at bay, but she couldn’t hold it for long. She threw an urgent look to Mace, and he stepped forward.

            “You don’t know what you’re doing,” Palpatine continued. “I can help you bring the galaxy to into the palm of your hand. I can make you a queen. I can—”

            Whatever he was about to say next was cut off, as Mace Windu killed him with one stroke of his light saber. The Chancellor fell to the floor with a hard thud, unseeing and no longer breathing.

            There was nothing but silence for several beats as the Jedi who had remained standing caught their breath. Tali stared at Palpatine, wondering whether all he had said was just some product of his desperation to live.

            It was Mace who broke the stillness.

            “One of us should go get help,” he said.

            “I’ll go, master,” Tali suggested weakly.

            Windu shook his head. “No, I will. Anakin will react better to you if he wakes up. I imagine he now harbors some ill feelings towards me after everything that’s happened.”

            He wasn’t wrong. Tali nodded and wandered over to stand next to Anakin’s prone form, watching as the dark-skinned Jedi Master walked away.

Before he exited the room, he turned around and looked at Tali with surprisingly compassionate eyes.

            “Your actions tonight are to be commended, padawan,” he said. “But you must resolve whatever there is between you and Obi-wan. As you must know, the Jedi don’t approve of love.”

            “Yes, master.”

            The all too familiar words made it easier for her to hide her emotions behind a blank voice, but all she could think about was what she was going to say to Obi-wan when she saw him again.


	22. One of the Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if any of you are wondering how I'm updating so fast, it's because I'm just importing this story from FF, so all of this has already been written beforehand and I'm just copy-pasting from my original Word documents. xD

**One of the Golden**

            In the weeks that followed Palpatine’s death, Anakin started meditating more often (as well as spending more time with his master), the Senate voted for a new Senator and Chancellor, and Yoda announced the date of Tali’s Knighting Ceremony to the entire Jedi Temple.

            Tali wanted to say that she hadn’t been expecting it at all, but that would have been a lie. With her aiding Mace Windu in the eradication of the Sith, there was no small part of her that expected any less. It was a large step for the Jedi, and she was proud to have played a rather large part in it.

            The days that led up to her Knighting passed quickly. Before she knew it, she was walking down the passageway leading to the Hall of Knighthood, clad in her usual, scratchy attire and cloak. Her hands shook and her heart beat rapidly; she was filled with equal parts nervousness and excitement. Ahead of her was a Senior Knight.

            Under normal circumstances, it was supposed to be Obi-wan who would lead her to the Hall of Knighthood, but he was off-planet on a mission. Apparently, he, along with a handful of others, had been tasked with explaining the passing of the Chancellor to the other planets in the System.

            Out of her nervousness, Tali couldn’t help but to ask, “How long is it, usually?”

            The Knight waved a hand at her nonchalantly. “No more than ten minutes. Don’t worry about it so much.”

            He was right. There was nothing to worry about. She was going to be Knighted, turned into a real Jedi of the Republic. Masters weren’t going to order her around so much anymore; she was finally going to have, at the very least, an ounce of free will. She wasn’t going to have to follow Obi-wan around… but there was something very daunting about that prospect.

            She and the Knight arrived at the end of the passage, and in front of them stood tall, bronze doors. Tali stared up at them in awe. The Knight stepped up and pushed the doors open, enough so she could walk through.

            He didn’t follow her inside the dimly lit room, but instead closed the doors behind her, eliminating the external light that had been streaming into the gap.

            A few ways away from her, in the middle of the room, was a circle of lights that lit up the floor. Candles. They formed symbols that Tali had seen many times in her life, most frequently within the Jedi Temple—symbols of the Force. Around the circle stood a ring of hooded figures, and at the farthest end was Grand Master Yoda.

            With his staff, he motioned for her to come forward.

            Tali, with shaky legs, walked deeper into the room and came to stand in the center of their ring. She could now distinguish the faces of the Masters surrounding her. Most of them were from the Council, while there were a handful of others who she hadn’t expected to be there: friends from her years as an Initiate, not including Anakin; familiar faces of Jedi who she had met during her years working with Obi-wan.

            And then she did a double take, as she was able to discern the bearded face of the man himself.

            Without meaning to, she murmured, “As cheeky as ever.”

            While the other Council members threw her disapproving looks, she didn’t miss the look of amusement that crossed Obi-wan’s face and, surprisingly, Yoda’s as well. Beneath the hood, Obi-wan winked briefly at her before allowing his bright eyes to flicker to the ground, reminding her what she was supposed to do next.

            Tali hastily knelt on the ground, bowing her head. All around her, light sabers were unclipped from belts, and activated. She was bathed in alternating blues and greens.

            Yoda spoke, and his familiar, cracking voice comforted Tali, just as much as her master’s presence did. “Jedi, we all are. Through us, the Force speaks. The Force proclaims itself and what is real through our actions. Today, here to acknowledge what the Force has proclaimed, we are.”

            The little troll stepped down from his pedestal; with slow, sure steps, he moved to stand in front of Tali.

            “Tali Deckard,” he said; she bowed her head in acknowledgement, doing her best to ignore the laser from his saber that was so close to her face.

            Knowing what was about to happen next, she sank deeper onto her knees and leaned forward, so that Yoda could stand taller than her. He brought his light saber down above each of her shoulders. She felt the heat on her skin. It reminded her of the pain she could cause, but also of the peace she could reap.

            “By the right of the Council, and by the will of the Force…” Yoda took her Padawan braid into his hand; he had barely moved his light saber before Tali heard and smelled the laser cutting through hair. The thin plait fell to the ground, and Yoda nodded. “I dub thee Jedi, Knight of the Republic.”

            A sensation very familiar to electric shock crawled down her spine. Afraid to break the sacred stillness within the chamber, Tali carefully took her braid off the floor, turned, walked away from the ring and, eventually, out of the room.

            Outside the Hall of Knighthood was a surge of bright light and open air.

            Taking a shaky breath, she looked down at the plait of hair that rested on the palm of her hand. She tilted her head and smiled ruefully. It was so odd not to have its familiar weight behind her ear. So long had it been a part of her being that it felt surreal, knowing that it was now something separate. Almost like a dream.

            The doors opened behind her and Jedi Masters came streaming out, hoods drawn back and their faces no longer so serious. Several of them shook her hand and congratulated her—the only one who came close and hugged her was Maris, who’d been the only female in the ring of Jedi.

            Mace Windu passed and nodded at her, a gesture that she returned. When Yoda walked by, she bowed her head. She heard him chuckle lightly before he walked away.

            And then there was Obi-wan, who was grinning from ear to ear.

            It didn’t even matter to her that he had lied. He was there during the end of one part of her life and the beginning of another, and she was grateful.

            Nevertheless, she pursed her lips and raised a disparaging eyebrow. “I thought you were off-planet.”

            “I lied,” he said.

            “I know.”

            He spread his arms at either side of him. “I wanted it to be a surprise! You can’t seriously be angry with me for wanting to surprise you.”

            “I’m not angry.” She let a smile creep onto her face. “And what a pleasant surprise it was, master.”

            With a grin, he shook his head. “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

            “Why? Does it make you feel old?”

            “I _am_ old!”

            Tali laughed but sobered up again after a few moments. Pocketing her Padawan braid, she came forward and hugged him—and she would never have said it, but she was thankful to finally have an excuse to be close to him again, if only for a few seconds.

            “You’ll always be my master,” she muttered.

            He rubbed circles on her back, bringing tears to her eyes. She could only imagine how long it would be before he would do that again.

            Eventually, he released an exasperated groan and gently pried her off, and she quickly blinked the tears away. “Now don’t get all sentimental on me,” he said. “Today is a cause for revelry!”

            When he started tugging her along the corridor, she asked where he was taking her. “Coruscant is throwing a week-long festival in celebration of the eradication of the Sith,” he said with a wide smile.

            “And the Senate agreed to it?”

            “They were the ones who put it into motion in the first place.”

            Sighing, she shook her head. “Some things I’ll never understand.” When she felt Obi-wan’s happiness dwindle at her words, apparently not sensing her sarcasm, she raised her head and beamed at him. “I’m joking!”

            Side-by-side, they exited the temple and entered the jubilee that waited for them outside.


	23. Maiden Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for inappropriate and unwanted advances (??? idk i've never put any of this stuff on my A/N's before hahahah)

**Maiden Name**

            Tali gazed at the thick crowd of beings surrounding her, still not entirely sure what she was supposed to be doing. Her master stood a few ways away, by the bar, conversing with a man in a dark cloak.

            Several hours before, Obi-wan had told her the details of their mission. It was just a scouting assignment, nothing very special, but he had voiced his reluctance in bringing her along. “Where we’re going, it is a den of iniquity,” he’d explained. “There will be very bad men there. I fear for your welfare.”

            But to Tali’s surprise, Yoda held an opinion _against_ Obi-wan’s.

            “Good experience for the young one, it will be,” the little troll had said. “Bring her with you, you will, or do not go at all.”

            So, there Tali stood, sipping on a glass of safe, cool water as she waited for her master to finish with his interrogation. She wanted to hear what they were talking about, but music was blaring from all sides and people were bumping into her as they danced or walked about. The scent of sweat, alcohol and several other foreign smells invaded her nostrils. It all distracted her immensely.

            Her master’s interrogation didn’t seem to be coming to a close any time soon, so she thought to walk around for a bit. Through the Force, she reached for Obi-wan’s familiar signature and inquired, _“Master, may I explore the den?”_

            He threw her a brief glance from the corner of his eye. She saw him purse his lips. _“Very well, padawan, but do be careful. Don’t stray too far from the crowd.”_

_“Yes, master.”_

            She picked her glass up from the top of the counter and exited her little private zone.

            The air was humid. After just a few seconds of wading through the sea of people, she began feeling sweat trickle from the side of her head and down her neck. She didn’t like feeling sticky or out of breath, but there was just _so much_ around her. She felt everything that everyone else felt, through the Force; like a pack of rabid dogs was barking into her ear. It was all she could do not to just walk out of there and leave the noise behind.

            But there was something strangely pleasant about the chaos raging in her mind. Exciting. Addictive.

            As she tried to get a hold of her feelings—her _own_ feelings—she sensed someone slide up behind her and touch her elbow.

            She would have been frightened if it weren’t for the fact that there were too many people around them for anyone to actually try anything with her.

            Someone’s hot breath touched the nape of her neck. Tali flinched and moved away, quickly looking to see who had invaded her personal space.

            A man stood there, human, fortunately. The cut of his sleeves went down to the sides of his torso, and his neckline was low enough to show his collarbones, revealing a sturdy build. There was something ruggedly handsome about him, with his messy black hair and dark eyes. Still, he was showing more skin than what Tali was used to seeing back in Coruscant, and she had difficulty meeting his eyes.

            “What drink are you having?” he asked. He spoke with a rough, unfamiliar accent that only proved to heighten her curiosity.

            Hesitantly, she raised her glass so he could see what it contained.

            He scoffed. “Come on, let me buy you a real drink. You seem old enough.”

            “I don’t drink alcohol,” she replied, and it was true. She had only ever tasted the stuff once before, under the watch of her mother. She didn’t particularly like the way it burned her throat and left a bubbling feeling in her stomach. And if one gulp alone had given her a headache, she wasn’t too eager to find out what one whole glass could do.

            Her answer had annoyed him, it seemed. She didn’t feel inclined to apologize, but she didn’t want him to stay peeved at her either.

            In an effort to ease the tension, she asked, “What’s your name?”

            He looked down at her oddly, as if he wasn’t asked that question too often. “Kael.”

            “I’m Tali.” She held her hand out and waited for him to shake it.

            Instead, he finished his drink with one large gulp, his face crinkling at the strength of it, and turned to her fully. “Do you wanna dance?”

            “Oh, well…” She didn’t, mainly because she didn’t know how to dance—at least, not how the other people in the den were doing it. And she didn’t think Obi-wan would approve of it either. It required too much contact, too much inappropriate intimacy. The Jedi were supposed to be unwavering and ever disciplined. “I don’t think I should.”

            His eyes flashed. “Babe, I’m trying to make this easier for you.”

            “Easier?” Now she was more than just curious. She was confused and mystified. What was he making easier for her?

            She asked him that, and he just rolled his eyes. He grabbed her outstretched hand and began pulling her through the scores of people, right onto the middle of the dance floor. She felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest, so out of sync with the music. There wasn’t a second where she didn’t hear any pounding in her ears.

            Kael started dancing in front of her, head down, arms raised and moving to the rhythm of the music. It occurred to her that this planet’s definition of “dancing” must be different from the one on Coruscant, and perhaps that was why he’d been so offended when she refused his offer at first.

            A few seconds passed before he noticed that she wasn’t moving—at all. “Come on,” he said, almost crooned, as he came to stand behind her. “Loosen up a little.”

            She didn’t want to. He had placed his arms on her hips, his face was too close to her neck, and she found that she didn’t much like this kind of dancing. Like many other Jedi had said, it was too intimate, and she didn’t know anything about Kael except for his name.

            His chest brushed against her back with his every movement, and his grip on her hips grew tighter with each passing beat. Tali grasped his wrists and squeezed them tightly, trying to push them away.

            “Stop,” she said.

            He swept her hands away and placed his on her stomach, pushing her back against him. She felt something hard pressing against the small of her back, then, and she realized just what he wanted from her.

            “I said _stop_.” She grabbed his hands again and shoved them away, at the same time putting some distance between them.

            “Geez, what is your problem?” Kael cried. “What, you never been screwed before?”

            She felt the heat rush up to her face upon hearing his statement. Anger, frustration, and embarrassment—all of it bubbled up to the surface. Tali knew that she had to channel them all somewhere, or she’d end up doing something she would regret.

            Mustering up all her self-control, she looked Kael in the eye and, through gritted teeth, she said, “Walk away and go home.”

            The Force rippled around her in a straight line towards the man, and his eyes glazed over. “I’ll walk away and go home.” He did just that, and Tali was left standing there. Her mortification ebbed, replaced by wonder.

            Obi-wan had spoken of mind tricks several times during their training sessions, but she’d never successfully attempted one. She had always thought that it could only be done by more experienced Jedi, that it would take her several years before she’d be able to do it, but apparently she had been mistaken.

            Just as Kael disappeared from her line of sight, Tali registered the feeling of someone watching her.

            She raised her head and saw her master standing there, arms crossed, lips pursed and blue-grey eyes flashing with rolling thunder. He had seen what happened, and he wasn’t happy.

            Heat rushed up to her face again, this time, born of pure shame. She quickly lowered her gaze, finding it impossible to hold his stare. “Master, I—”

            “You can explain yourself on our way back to Coruscant,” he interrupted, and she couldn’t help but to flinch. He’d never used that tone with her before. “We’re leaving. Come on.”

            He swiftly turned away from her, and she had no other choice but to follow. Two paces behind, and slightly to his left. She was his padawan. She was a Jedi.

_There is no Emotion; there is Peace. There is no Ignorance; there is Knowledge. There is no Passion; there is Serenity. There is no Chaos; there is Harmony. There is no Death; there is the Force. There is no Emotion…_

            Reciting the Jedi Code in her head had always calmed her down, but she found that it wasn’t working. Not now. Her chest felt tight, her eyes were burning with unshed tears, and she felt such guilt that when Obi-wan spoke again, in their ship, she couldn’t help the single tear that escaped the corner of her eye.

            “Why did you dance with him?” he asked.

            She swallowed back the lump in her throat and shook her head. “Master, I… I didn’t think,” she said. “I acted on my curiosity. I didn’t presume to think of his ulterior motives, and—“ The look of thunder hadn’t left his face, and she stopped herself before she said anything that would only worsen the blow of his anger.

            Bowing her head, she said in a quiet voice, “There is no excuse, master.”

            “You’re right. There isn’t.” There was a dangerous undertone in his voice that made Tali flinch, shrinking even further away from him.

            Something wasn’t right about that, and her master must have thought the same. With a deep sigh, he relaxed his stance; through their Force-bond, she felt him collecting the vestiges of his patience. She waited long-sufferingly.

            When he spoke again, the thunder had receded from his eyes. “You do realize what could have happened, don’t you?” he said. “If you hadn’t been able to push him away? If you hadn’t succeeded with that mind trick?”

            “He would have taken advantage of me.” Heat rushed to her face at the words—she had thought of the matter before, but that was entirely different from saying it out loud, especially in front of Obi-wan—and she ducked her head to hide her embarrassment.

            “That’s the simpler way of putting it. The domestic way… Tali, look at me.” The stern edge returned to his voice. She had to force herself to meet his gaze, gulping back the lump in her throat upon seeing the austerity on his face.

            “I know that you grew up on Coruscant, that you practically never left the place,” Obi-wan continued. “The people there are benevolent. Humane. Respectable. But there are many other worlds in the universe that are inhabited by many other races, and not all of them are like the people in Coruscant. There will be liars, cheaters, murderers, drunkards, thieves; people who will seek to take advantage of you like that man you were dancing with.”

            Tali’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You mean rapists.” She didn’t mean for it to sound so snappy, but she couldn’t help it. He was talking to her as if she was a child. As if she didn’t know that what she had done was foolish. As if she didn’t know that the universe _did_ harbor liars and murderers and rapists. Of course she knew. How couldn’t she?

            Obi-wan must have sensed her growing exasperation. He let out another sigh. “I’m just being careful with you, Tali,” he said. “It’s sort of my job now.”

            It was probably the best kind of apology she was going to get, considering the circumstances. She could get used to it.

            “I’ll be more careful next time, master,” she told him, offering a smile. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

            “Well, I have to.” He grinned crookedly. “Force knows what your mother would do to me if something bad happened to you.”

_“She’d have my head,”_ she heard him say through their Force-bond.

            She couldn’t help but to laugh.


	24. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's only appropriate to end things where they started, isn't it? :)
> 
> P.S.  
> if y'all haven't listened to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron yet then what are you actually doing with your life

**Prologue**

            The Apprentice Tournament was held in Coruscant’s largest stadium, or as the people liked to call it, the Grand Coliseum. It was capable of holding over two thousand people, but today, when Jedi initiates were going to be pitted together in one of the most famous competitions in the galaxy, the crowd had to be four thousand strong. Approximately.

            Tali stared out at the crowd from beneath the stands, watching as they cheered at the two Jedi currently butting heads on the ring. Her nerves were gone, replaced by the sheer will to win.

            She had defeated many other Jedi already, and she was still breathing heavily from her most recent putting with a male Twi’lek. Her victory had been hard-fought, but she had stolen the spot in the finals from him by overpowering him and Force-pushing him out of the ring.

            Though she had secured herself a spot in the final, Tali was anxious for her friend Maris, who was currently battling it out with another male, _human_ Jedi on the ring.

            Maris and Tali weren’t close, but they’d trained with Yoda and gone through the Initiate Trials together. And at the moment, the former was beginning to be overpowered by a boy named Anakin Skywalker.

            Tali had always seen Maris as the most powerful of them all—for there was power in control, and she was undoubtedly a very controlled person—but Anakin was gaining the upper hand. Everyone in the temple had always mentioned how surprising his strength was in the Force, and Tali couldn’t blame them. His Force signature was one of the strongest she had ever felt. Maris was older than him, yet she was the one getting closer and closer to the edge of the ring.

            At the last second, Maris seemed to reach into her power reserve. Her strikes came harder, faster. In a flurry of flashing lights, she was pushing Anakin back with her training saber. Tali watched with growing excitement as Anakin’s face tightened in concentration.

            But just as it seemed that Maris was going to be able to push Anakin over the edge, he twirled his blade and angled his body in a maneuver that Tali had only seen performed by Jedi Masters. In a second, it was Maris who was standing by the edge, and Anakin driving her back. The masses roared at the turn of events.

            Anakin batted Maris’ training saber away and threw his arm out. Just like that, Maris was sailing off the ring and to the front of the stands.

            A bell rang, announcing Anakin’s victory. Tali remained by the sidelines while he basked in the spotlight for a minute or two, before he was ushered off of the ring. She watched him approach Maris and offer her a hand. At least he was a gentleman—although obviously not so much of a gentleman that he would let a woman win.

            The contestants for the final round—being Tali and Anakin—were given an hour to prepare. Tali went to the quietest place in the Coliseum, which was one of the rooms in the ground floor. She sat there, meditating, calming herself down and thinking of ways on how she could correct Maris’ mistakes, turn Anakin’s technique against him.

            At some point in time, she sensed a shift in the room’s atmosphere, as well as in the Force. It was like she had been sitting in the dark, and a candle had suddenly been lit and placed in front of her.

            “Mind if I join you?” Anakin said, standing respectably by the doorway.

            Tali eyed him and wondered whether he had followed her, or if he’d just coincidentally stumbled across the same room that she’d chosen. “I suppose not,” she replied, letting go of her wariness. He might have been an opponent of hers, but he was still a Jedi, and that should be enough.

            “Thank you.” He padded into the room and sat down a few feet off to her right. A gentleman, as she had observed before.

            She closed her eyes in hopes that he would be able to read her enough to know that she didn’t want to talk, but there was no such luck.

            “You’re Tali Deckard, aren’t you?” he said. “The daughter of one of the ambassadors?”

            “And you’re Anakin Skywalker,” she retorted. “The prodigy from Tatooine, lately trained but still as strong as any of us.”

            From the corner of her eye, she saw him grin. “I didn’t know that I was so famous among the initiates.”

            “Yes, well, don’t get used to it. After today, everyone will be talking about how you were defeated by a _girl_.”

            “Do you really want to talk about that?”

            Reining in her emotions, she released a heavy sigh. “Sorry,” she said. “And no, not really. I’d rather just… meditate.”

            He nodded. “Yes, I think that’s the best thing to do. For the both of us.”

            He wasn’t going to leave? Tali almost rolled her eyes in exasperation, but she was able to hold back at the last second. For the next hour or so, they remained in each other’s company. And perhaps it was only Tali doing the digging, but as she calmed herself, she also read Anakin’s Force-presence. Not too much that he would notice—just a few prods here and there, enough to see just how strong he was and how often he used the Force to his advantage.

            When the announcer’s voice was once more blasting through the speakers, calling the last two contestants onto the ring, Tali opened her eyes and found Anakin staring at her already. With an unspoken agreement, they stood and walked out of the room in unison.

            “I’ve seen how strong you are,” Anakin suddenly said as they were nearing the ring. “I’ve felt it. But I want to win.”

            She scowled at him. “Well, too bad, because so do I.”

            “No, that’s good. Don’t hold back.” Just before he strode into the fighting chamber, Tali heard him say, “I want a fair fight.”

            He walked into the stadium and the crowd cheered, and Tali glared at him. If he was looking for a fair fight, he was going to get the fight of his life.

            Before she followed him onto the ring, she took a moment to center herself, as Yoda had always implemented the value of focus and absolute calm when entering a duel. She didn’t want to disgrace his teachings.

            The crowd cheered for her as well when she stepped onto the ring, but she ignored them, her attention focused solely on the Jedi standing across the ring, looking at her with observant eyes. Two droids handed each of them their training sabers, which were enough to bruise and cause welts and some minor burns, but not cause any permanent damage.

            Tali adjusted her grip on the saber, letting it into a more comfortable position. She saw Anakin do the same as they stared each other down.

            The entire coliseum fell silent.

            The bell rang, Tali and Anakin advanced, and they began their duel.

            It soon became evident how he had defeated Maris. While her style of fighting had been built solely on years of watching the older Jedi fight, his seemed completely original. His attacks came left and right, up and down, alternating in a pattern that renewed time and time again. He was gaining the upper hand. Tali knew that she had to pick up her pace.

            Using the maneuver that Anakin had used on Maris, Tali switched their positions and continued barraging him until they were once more standing on the middle of the ring. He grinned wryly. Tali renewed her attack.

            They remained as they were for what felt like hours: two objects in motion that refused to stop until affected by some external force.

            Tali threw a jab here, and Anakin returned it with a sideswipe. Neither of the attacks made contact with skin, and they continued their deadly dance.

            A long minute later, Tali noticed him pull his saber back, and he didn’t look to be bringing it forward again. She knew what he was about to do, and prepared herself.

            She twirled her saber between her hands, trying to gain momentum, and then threw her right hand forward at the same moment Anakin did.

            Their fingers were taut and quaking in exertion as they brought the battle into their own minds. Tali drew strength from the Force and tried to breach through his defenses, but he held fast. She could feel him poking at her Force-walls, and she pushed even harder against him.

            Eventually, though, one of them had to tire out, and it was unfortunately Tali. Her focus slipped and he invaded her walls. With an audible grunt, he pushed her away from him using the Force. But she still had her wits about her. She tightened the muscles in her body, making herself grow heavy, so that instead of flying through the air, she skidded across the floor instead.

            Yet Anakin’s push was strong. It carried her to the edge of the ring, where she would have fallen off had her fingers not curled around the sharp edge.

            Once the momentum was gone, she brought her sword arm up and placed it onto the ring. She could hear the crowd roaring in the background, telling her to climb up faster.

            Her shoulders were screaming in pain. She knew she had to get up soon, or her fingers would slip. Before she could fall, she imagined an invisible platform beneath her feet, and it propelled her upwards.

            She spun in the air and, with help from the Force, travelled all the way to where Anakin was.

            Her feet touched the ground behind him. The masses thundered in approval. As Anakin was turning around, Tali didn’t wait for him to grin at her. She attempted to Force-push him off of the ring, but blinked in surprise when a wall of brute force intercepted her.

            She heard his saber before she saw it. Instinctively, she raised her own and the two weapons met with a violent sound.

            Their battle renewed, but there was something different.

            Anakin’s blows came harder and faster, if that was even possible. It was as if he’d been holding back before. The prospect angered Tali, yet the longer they fought, the more apparent it became that she was no match for him. Not yet. Not when he so badly wanted to win.

            It all came to an end when Anakin’s saber landed two consecutive blows on her hip and arm. The brief flashes of pain were enough to break her concentration, and Anakin took advantage. This time, he made sure that she flew high and far.

            Tali landed in a heap on the padded floor that surrounded the fighting platform. She reeled from the sudden halt, and her saber flew from her hand.

            On the ring, Anakin was being reined champion, and there was a grin on his face that annoyed her to no extents. _So much for being a gentleman._

            When the announcements were finished, Tali exited the stadium with a rain cloud over her head. It would disappear as soon as she meditated, she knew, but for the moment it was there, complete with rolling thunder.

            She’d planned on just going to her quarters and resting, and she would search for a master the next day, but apparently, the Force had other plans.

            “Tali, wait!”

            She groaned and whirled around, making sure that Anakin saw the displeased look on her face. “What do you want?”

            “I just wanted to congratulate you,” he said. “For the good fight, I mean. It was an honor, and I look forward to training with you as padawan learners in the near future.”

            He held his hand out. At first Tali only glared at it. But the Jedi Code came into mind, and she knew that Yoda would slap her with his walking stick if she held onto her anger. Breathing deeply, she accepted her defeat and shook Anakin’s hand.

            “Congratulations on being the new champion,” she said. “You’ll have masters flocking to you left and right.”

            “With that trick you pulled at the edge of the ring, I wouldn’t be thinking about masters flocking to _me_ , if I were you.”

            There was a knowing glint in his eyes that unnerved her. She smiled, and was just about to excuse herself when his eyes flickered to something behind her. And then she felt someone tap her shoulder.

            Tali turned around and found a man with chestnut hair, the beginnings of a beard on his face and a pair of striking, grey-blue eyes that were looking down at her. He wore the usual robes of a Jedi, but this wasn’t just any Jedi Master. Her shock was palpable.

            “You are Tali Deckard?” Obi-wan said.

            “Y-yes, master,” Tali stuttered in response.

            “May I speak with you in private?”

            “Of course.”

            She watched as he nodded to Anakin, saying, “Master Windu will be with you shortly, Anakin. Wait for him here.”

            Anakin had looked pretty disappointed that the draigonslayer Obi-wan Kenobi wasn’t going to be mentoring him, but upon hearing that Mace Windu was expecting him, Tali felt his mood lift somewhat. Anakin bowed to Obi-wan and left them to speak alone.

            Obi-wan returned his attention to Tali, who was looking down at her boots shyly.

            “I’m sure you know why I’m here,” he said.

            She nodded. “Y-yes, master, but if I may ask,” she nervously began. “Why did you choose to speak with me instead of Anakin?”

            He raised an eyebrow. “And why do you ask that?”

            “Well, I… I lost, master.”

            “Yes, but it wasn’t an easily gained victory for him either, was it?” At her bewilderment, he only smiled. “There is courage in accepting defeat, young one, and I saw you accept yours quite graciously.”

_If only he knew,_ Tali mused.

            “Anakin is an exceptional fighter, and remarkably strong in the Force,” Obi-wan continued. “But he is also headstrong, reckless, and arrogant. I did not need a second opinion to know that he and I would not get along as master and padawan. And seeing as he is a rather special case, it was by the council’s mutual decision that he be placed under the tutelage of Master Windu.”

            “From what I’ve heard, Master Windu is even stricter than you are—no offense, master.” Tali couldn’t help the blush of embarrassment that rushed up her neck.

            Obi-wan chuckled. “None taken,” he replied. “Master Windu may be strict, but he is also undeniably kind. He will understand the Skywalker boy better than you or I ever will.”

            The shock was yet to set in, that _the_ Obi-wan Kenobi had chosen her as a padawan. He must have seen it on her face, because he raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be questioning my choice, young one. Would you like to switch masters with Anakin?”

            Her eyes widened. “No, master! Not at all!”

            “Good! I’d hate to see the very first youngling I take under my wing walking out on me. I’d never hear the end of it.”

            Obi-wan placed a hand on her shoulder and turned them in the direction of the Jedi Temple. There was a smile on his face. “Besides, I think you and I will get along very nicely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure whether I'll be writing more for Obi-wan, so as of the moment, this story is at its end. :) I hope y'all liked it!


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